Subduction
by Kit Chan76
Summary: After a massive explosion rocks Ba Sing Se, Team Avatar must deal with the fallout. Faced with sudden loss, Korra and company work to expose and bring down a psychopathic firebender bent on restoring his nation to its former glory.
1. The Burial

It wasn't until long after the chaos ended that Korra realized how wrong things truly were, when Bolin stood wide-eyed and silent before hundreds with a plain platinum box atop a bare earth dais behind him. He had been there for a while, long enough for the silence to grow awkward, groping for words that would not come despite hours of preparation. Korra would have said he looked afraid, but she had seen him afraid before and this was not the same. Now, he seemed vacant.

"I don't know what to say," Bolin uttered with great effort, and he looked toward Pema with an expression that begged forgiveness. "I can't do this. I'm sorry," he said, seemingly to her, and stepped down from the platform. Then he sat in the empty front row, folded his hands listlessly in his lap, and stared at his feet.

Korra wanted to go to him more than anything, but the moment she made her move Asami, seated at her side, told her no in a firm but gentle tone.

"Leave him be. He needs space right now."

The ceremony did not last long after that. Men and women filed out of the hall past the platinum box, placing their hands on it, stopping to bow before it, some without acknowledging it at all. Bolin sat silent the whole while with his eyes on the floor, accepting the occasional handshake or condolence as the procession rolled past to timid strains of "Leaves from the Vine." After a time the place was empty but for close friends and family, who exchanged uncertain looks before standing to offer their assistance.

Asami stood and offered a hand to Korra, and together they approached their bereaved friend. Korra knelt before him and took his hands in hers, but he didn't move. For a long moment she looked at him, struck by the emptiness on his face. Everyone had expected Bolin to be sad, but no one had expected _this_.

"Are you ready?" she asked quietly.

Bolin nodded and accepted her help to his feet.

"The airbenders will move him to the island for burial," Asami said. "Under Aang's monument like we agreed."

Bolin nodded again, and with Korra on one side and Asami on the other, was ushered from the room with at least a shred of dignity. At a respectable distance behind followed Tenzin and his family, who airlifted the platinum box from its dais with utmost care.

It had been almost a week since an explosion rocked Ba Sing Se's upper ring, ruining its inaugural election and killing more than sixty civilians. Mako had been there with Prince Wu, attending to the very last of his duties as monarchical bodyguard, and had apparently been enveloped by the blast. Wu made it out and now rested unconscious but undoubtedly alive in a Republic City hospital, yet Mako's body had been mangled so severely that Lin Beifong insisted the casket be closed for his viewing and burial.

Lin had been the one to identify the body, and being the closest city official to the family had been the one to notify them of the loss. The lot of them—the Avatar, the airbenders, Asami, extended family, and Bolin—were brought into a small gray metal room at the precinct without warning, and the news had been laid bare. Their grandmother Yin swooned even in her chair, Korra and Asami looked to each other for confirmation that what they had heard was correct, Tenzin wrapped his family in large loving arms, but Bolin stood resolute and stone faced.

"What?" he had said without inflection, and when Lin repeated herself he simply stared, stupefied.

At once Korra had moved to his side, grasped his hand, and asked if he was all right. But he didn't look to her at all, didn't even acknowledge that she had touched him. His thick brows knit, eyes narrowed, and the longer she stared at him the more she noticed a pulsing tendon in his firmly set jaw.

"I want to see it," Bolin said sharply.

For a beat Lin was surprised, but she dared not argue with the look on Bolin's face. "If you're sure that's what you want, kid," she said quietly, and motioned for him to follow her.

Bolin jerked his hand away from Korra and followed Beifong from the room. The rest lingered in stunned silence, exchanging glances full of mourning and doubt, but eventually dispersed. The next time Korra saw Bolin was that night when he unexpectedly arrived on the doorstep of the airbender compound, Pabu in tow, with his earlier bluster conspicuously absent and replaced by subdued desperation.

"I'd like to stay the night here, please," he had said, eyes locked on the ground. "Will you get Tenzin, or ask him, or do whatever needs to be done? I'll sleep outside if I need to, but I can't go back to the apartment."

Korra pulled him inside at once and without so much as a word to Tenzin escorted Bolin to a room in the male dormitory. The earthbender made his way to the bed and collapsed onto it, and once Pabu had jumped from his shoulder he rolled away from the Avatar, remaining silent until she left.

The day after the news came was worse than the day before. Funeral arrangements had to be made before the remains deteriorated. Eulogies had to be written, and quickly. Korra offered to help, but Bolin adamantly refused to allow her into his room. Asami had had the same bad luck. But Pema brought an offering of steam buns and hot tea, and Bolin had relented at her very maternal threat of breaking down the door. The two had sat in the room for most of the morning and afternoon, and Pema emerged that night with a shrug and empty script.

"He said he would think about what he wants to say," she said. "Otherwise he doesn't care about the ceremony, he just doesn't want to take care of it himself. He mentioned we should contact his grandmother."

The third day, Tenzin and Pema worked with Yin to make preparations for the funeral. Invitations were extended even beyond the boundaries of Republic City, and each recipient reported that he or she would attend.

The fourth day saw the release of a message from the man who orchestrated the explosion and the subsequent closing of all transport into and out of Republic City. Even Su Beifong and her family would be unable to attend the proceedings, and Tenzin reported the news with increasing melancholy.

The fifth day Bolin emerged with Pabu on his shoulder and watched Korra train in the yard. She offered for him to join her and blow off steam, but he waved her away with a dismissive, "No thanks." When he stood to return inside not long thereafter, Pabu jumped from his shoulder and scampered to Korra. The fire ferret had remained with her since, making only occasional attempts to snuggle up to his master.

The sixth day brought the funeral. Asami and Korra dressed themselves in their finest formal attire before providing much needed assistance for the bereaved. He had obviously neglected himself in his grief, but after an hour he seemed ready to leave. Pabu rode in the Satomobile on his lap, licking absently at his hands, but when the party arrived at the hall Bolin passed him off to Korra again. Then Bolin took his designated seat alone at the front and stared at the floor, flailed in his speech, and stared at the floor some more.

The ride to Avatar Aang Memorial Island stretched in awkward silence from car to boat to car. Asami commented on the lovely ceremony and Korra heartily agreed—they hoped the conversation might spark some reaction—but Bolin continued to thoroughly examine his dress shoes.

An armed escort led Korra, Asami, and Bolin to the plot where the rest waited, heads bowed respectfully. The officiate, an aging and agitated man in dark green robes, said words that no one heard and motioned to Bolin. The silence grew awkward again.

"Bo?" Korra prompted with a gentle touch to his elbow, and he looked to her with confusion. "The burial."

He hadn't even noticed Mako's box being placed in a perfectly proportioned rectangular hole cut from the earth at Aang's feet, in the shadow of the great white lotus upon which the immense statue stood, nor had he heard the officiate ask if he wanted to partake in the burial ceremony. It seemed obvious to Korra—an earthbender could easily close a hole in the ground—but Bolin shook his head.

"I can't."

Korra looked to Asami, and when Asami shrugged she turned back to Bolin. "What do you mean, _you can't_?" She had heard those words so many times from him in the last days that they ceased to carry any meaning at all.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, ashamed. "I can't. I haven't been able to bend for days," he said, practically a whisper. Then he stood tall, as though an idea had struck him, and looked at the official with resolution. "I'd feel privileged if the Avatar would do the honors."

Korra felt betrayed, being put on the spot, but she stepped forward at the official's gesture, planted her right foot, and closed the grave with a strong sweep of her arms. The earth rumbled as if in protest, but the deed was done, and no one was any the wiser for Bolin's apparent incompetence. Most attendees thought the gesture had been beautiful.

The burial ceremony finished and Korra and Asami stood aside Bolin, accepting comments, handshakes, and condolences without words. Eventually the crowd was gone except Tenzin and the airbenders, Korra, Asami, and Bolin.

Again, Korra prompted him. "Are you ready?"

He shook his head. "No. I'll follow along in a while. You guys go ahead without me." He spoke evenly, his voice as blank as his face.

"Are you sure?" asked Asami.

Before Bolin could reassure her, Tenzin had placed his hands on her and Korra's shoulders and pulled them away. As one, the group left him alone at the grave.

Korra looked back many times as they went. She wasn't sure what she was looking for.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Asami asked generally as the group approached the airbender compound.

Tenzin replied after a moment of thought. "This has come as a shock to all of us. I imagine that it will take time, but sooner or later things will balance out again."

"He told me he can't earthbend," Korra said to Tenzin. "He hasn't been able to."

Tenzin shrugged. "Our bending is deeply connected to our spirits. A disturbance of this magnitude could easily disconnect the body and mind."

Korra patted Pabu on the head when the ferret whined. "I'm worried."

Pema spoke next, as wisely as her husband. "Well, when I was helping him write the eulogy Bolin seemed okay. He didn't want to talk about much. I think he was more upset when he found out that Opal and the others couldn't be here because of the travel restrictions. But he was never tearful or angry."

This was the part that had Korra worried. The news of Mako's death had hit everyone except for Bolin like a train. Everyone except for Bolin had been openly mourning, crying, and meditating. Only once had he seemed particularly grief stricken, and that was when he asked to stay at the island. Since then, Bolin had been almost entirely a blank slate.

"Dinner will be in an hour or so," Pema said when the lot entered the airbender compound. "Please be on time."

Korra and Asami excused themselves to their shared bedroom in the women's dormitory, and changed out of their formal attire and into their nightclothes. Then they sat and stared out of the west-facing window at the statue of Avatar Aang, all red and blue and orange in the sunset.

"He reminds me of how you were," Asami said at length as she stroked Pabu's back, "after you were poisoned."

"That was different," Korra replied. "I was wounded."

"So is he."

Korra swallowed her budding rage and sighed. "The funeral was a disaster."

Asami shook her head. "No, it was all right. Considering the problems everyone is having getting in and out of the city and the trouble we had booking everything on such short notice, I think things were fine. Mako would have thought it was funny."

"If I hear 'Leaves from the Vine' one more time I might throw up, though," Korra said.

Asami giggled. "Mako would have thrown up, too."

"He wouldn't want us to be sad, would he?"

Asami shrugged. "Who knows what he would have wanted. I don't want to be sad, though, so I won't. There's been too much of that going around lately between Mako, my dad, Kuvira, and all the fallout."

Korra put her arm round Asami's shoulders and heaved another great sigh.

"It's a nice place for him, don't you think?" Asami asked. "Calm and quiet and protected beneath the statue."

"Mako didn't need to be protected," Korra said, the edge of anger returned to her voice. "He needed to be away from that idiot Wu. If he hadn't been there—"

"He _wanted_ to be there," Asami interrupted. "It was his choice to return to his duty as bodyguard and he took it. No one could've foreseen what happened at the election."

"And nobody knows who did it, either, all we have to go on is that psychotic message they put in the paper!" Korra cried, frustrated. "I have trouble believing that it caught everyone completely off guard."

"It didn't catch them off guard, or so I heard on the radio," Asami replied. "I heard that there was a suspicious persons call put out before the attack that called forces to the lower ring. You know how people feel about the lower ring of Ba Sing Se—even with increased security they're going to ramp up more there than in the upper ring. When the police forces were separated, it all happened."

"And I find it hard to believe that a firebender was burned alive."

Asami winced. "They'll figure out who did it, and he'll be punished," was all the rebuttal she could offer, and even to her the words rang empty.

* * *

It was well into dinnertime when Bolin returned to the compound. Without ceremony or introduction he took his place at the dinner table, loosened the collar of his dress shirt, and began to eat wordlessly. This, too, had become common, and this, too, worried the Avatar. Never one for table manners, Bolin on a normal day would have cleared his plate in seconds. Now he did as much rearranging of the items as he did actual eating, and most meals left at least half his food untouched. Often he excused himself to his room before anyone else and disappeared until next day or after.

"You're looking peaky," Pema said to him when he sat, and Bolin looked at her as if he didn't understand. Then she stood and walked round the table to sit beside him. "Are you feeling okay?" She pressed her wrist to his forehead in motherly fashion. "You're pale."

But dry eyed, Korra noted. She had hoped he was staying at the grave to mourn finally, but all signs showed that he was still all pent up.

Bolin regarded his bowl of rice, untouched, and the stack of steamed vegetables that lay beside it. "I just need to eat something."

"When you've finished your dinner I'll send an acolyte to your room with some tea and a cold compress." Pema kissed him lightly on the cheek, and then stood to retake her place at the table. "I can't have you getting sick on us."

Korra shot a meaningful glance at Tenzin, and then looked to Bolin. "I'd be happy if you'd come train with me tomorrow," she said brightly. "Pabu would love to spend time with you."

"No, thanks," Bolin replied shortly.

Tenzin cleared his throat, commanding the attention of the table. "It's healthy to exercise during times of mourning," he said, picking up on Korra's obvious lead. "And Pema is right that you've been looking ill."

Bolin perked up, glaring between Tenzin and Korra. "You _told_ him, didn't you? That I can't bend," he said, more incredulous than angry, and stood. "Why would you do that? Why would you ever think that was a good idea?" With Korra sufficiently shamed, he turned on Tenzin. "I appreciate that you're letting me stay in your house, but I don't need any of your special airbender spirituality nonsense, much less if it's masked behind concern." He walked to the door and turned back as he opened it. "I'll be in my room."

He left and slammed the door behind him.

Again, Tenzin cleared his throat. "That went well."

"Can I go to my room, too, daddy?" asked Ikki, tired, and when Tenzin nodded his approval the airbender children left the table one by one.

"I'll go talk to him," Korra said long after the food had gone cold. "I made him angry, it seems only right that I should calm him down. Come on, Pabu."

The fire ferret skittered up to rest on her shoulder.

"Don't wait up for me," Korra said to Asami, and then she left.


	2. Acceptance

Korra found Bolin already changed into his nightclothes lying atop the covers with his back to the door. Upon entering the room Pabu scampered from her shoulder and curled up at the foot of the bed, but Bolin did not turn.

The room was as much a disaster as could be expected for how few possessions he had brought. His casual jacket was half under the bed, one shoe near the door, and the other in the opposite corner. His dress clothes were draped over a chair, rumpled and discarded without a thought, and the promised tea and cold compress sat disused on the bedside table. The tea had gone cold, and the compress dripped pathetically onto the floor.

"I'm sorry," Korra said. "I shouldn't have told anyone, I was just worried."

When Bolin didn't respond she approached the bed and looked down at him, afraid she would wake him from much needed sleep. But he was awake with his brow furrowed in anger, jaw set again, tendon working as he ground his teeth in frustration. He stared at some unknown point beyond the window; lost in thought somewhere out in the bright lights of Republic City. She sat on the edge of the bed quietly for a time.

"You would tell someone if you weren't okay, wouldn't you?" she asked.

"What makes you think I wouldn't?" Bolin snapped.

"Well, the way you've been acting for the last week for a start," Korra replied with just as much heat as Bolin. She could match his temper easily. "Everyone is worried about you, not just me, not just Asami. You won't talk, you won't eat, you _can't bend_…"

"It'll come back…"

"Has this happened before?"

"No…"

Korra sighed. She wanted to ask how he could be so sure but all Bolin's pretention was gone, faded with that last syllable, and his face had gone blank again. She couldn't bring herself to rub his nose in false pride now. He'd seemed so genuinely upset. Had it all been a show?

"Will you lay with me for a while?" Bolin asked timidly. "Just for the company?"

Korra nodded though he didn't see it. "Where do you want me?"

He patted the bed in front of him, and Korra settled in to the sound of Pabu's agitated chittering. When she seemed comfortable Bolin draped his arm round her middle and cozied up to her, nestled his forehead into the back of her neck. Within moments she felt a subtle shudder pass through him and warm wetness against her skin.

"It's not healthy to keep all this in," said the Avatar gently.

Bolin shook his head, though whether it was in agreement or disagreement Korra didn't know. "I think I'm just tired," he said without the slightest waver in his voice. If he was indeed crying he was good at hiding it. "I haven't slept well."

Korra nodded. "You looked tired today."

"I am tired."

"Why not go to sleep?"

Another shudder, but this time she felt his muscles tense in protest. Such suppression seemed second nature now. "I should never have looked at him," said Bolin in an anguished whisper. "I don't know what I expected. Beifong warned me, but I looked, and now every time I close my eyes that's what I see. He was just a pile of meat—it didn't look like him at all, all burned and red and bloody. And the smell…"

Korra felt the corners of her eyes warming and closed her eyes against unwanted tears. She felt nauseous. "Do you want to meditate with me?"

"No."

It wasn't the answer she expected. "It might help."

Bolin shook his head again, and this time Korra was certain that it was in disagreement. "I wish Opal had been here," he said. "But at the same time I'm glad she wasn't. I'd hate for her to see me like this."

"But it's okay for me to see you like this?"

"You're the Avatar. It's your job to help people."

Korra grimaced at the truth. Since the news broke she had relied heavily on her status as Avatar to keep herself grounded. Prior to Bolin's arrival she had meditated for hours under the statue of Avatar Aang to convince herself that the Avatar wasn't the only spirit that reincarnated. She wanted to believe that Mako was being reborn, even if she didn't truly know it. Deep in her heart was understanding that no matter how much she wanted to mourn and cry and wallow in the loss, she had to provide stability for her friends, particularly Bolin. If she lost her composure now…

"I'm your _friend_, so it's my job to help _you_," Korra corrected pointedly. "Don't get the two things mixed up."

She felt a smile crack against the back of her neck and he hugged her tight against him. Then another shudder. An almost imperceptible sob. Pabu perked his head up thoughtfully to regard the two and crawled up Korra's leg, his soft footfalls tickling her skin. The fire ferret settled on the pillow above their heads with a soft whine.

They lay that way for a long time, the comfortable silence interrupted occasionally by sobs let slip or a sharp intake of breath. Every once in a while Bolin would pull Korra closer, so tight sometimes that she had to hold her breath. An hour or more later the sobs stopped, the restlessness ceased, and his breath warmed her neck in slow and steady intervals.

He slept.

Overcome, Korra cried until she joined him.

* * *

Next morning the male dormitory rang with cries of, "Girl in the boy's room! Girl in the boy's room!" and Korra woke with a start. Meelo and Rohan were running full tilt down the hallway with their voices echoing loud and clear through the compound.

It took her a minute to remember where she was, to remember what the gentle pressure against her stomach was, but she felt warm and comfortable and surprisingly well rested. Apparently they'd gone the whole night without moving at all. Tenderly she removed Bolin's arm, sat up, and stretched. He was still sleeping soundly, relaxed and apparently at peace with Pabu curled round the back of his neck.

She watched him until Meelo and Rohan came running back, this time quietly and with Pema in tow. The boys wore matching enormous lopsided grins, and Pema looked a bit scandalized. With a timid wave Korra welcomed the airbenders into the room and motioned for quiet.

"You were in here all night?" Pema asked with the slightest indignation.

Korra nodded and slid off the foot of the bed. "It seemed like the right thing to do," she said and thought to add that Bolin had both cried and slept in healthy amounts because of it, but decided otherwise. It was his decision to tell.

"Well, he's got a letter from Tenzin's mother," Pema added. "And it's getting close to noon."

Surprised, Korra looked out the window. "I'll get him around. Is there breakfast?"

"Lunch," Pema replied as she ushered the children from the room, but she turned last minute and added, "I won't tell Tenzin that you spent the night together, but I make no promises for the children."

Korra blushed and turned away. "Thanks," she said and moved to the bed.

It took some effort to rouse Bolin, so deep was he sleeping, and as he dressed she helped make the bed while wondering about the letter Pema had mentioned. It was rare for anyone to hear from Katara, even Tenzin, so a note to Bolin seemed oddly out of place. Still, news of Mako's death had spread fast and it seemed only right that letters of condolence should come from those unable to travel.

"Pema said lunch will be ready soon," Korra said as she slapped the pillow atop the freshly smoothed bedclothes. Then she turned and regarded her friend with the most genuine smile she could muster.

He looked perplexed at her and zipped his brown jacket, ruffled his hair a bit, and motioned the okay for Pabu to resume his customary position. The fire ferret obliged with a chatter of satisfaction, and Bolin spoke as he patted Pabu on the head. "Thank you for staying with me."

"Don't mention it."

"I won't," he said and shot a furtive glance Korra's way. When next he spoke his voice was slightly stern. "But please don't say anything to anyone. And I mean that this time."

"Well they're going to know I was in here," Korra replied flippantly, "Rohan and Meelo were screaming it all over the house before you woke up."

"That's not what I mean. I don't want everyone knowing that I—"

"That you cried?" Korra asked incredulously. "Honestly it would make people feel _better_ if they knew, but if you don't want me to tell anyone I won't."

Bolin nodded.

"Lunch?" Korra prompted.

Bolin nodded again and the two exited to the dining room. The rest had already gathered and were presently waiting for lunch to be served. All eyes turned toward the awkward pair as they took their respective seats. Tenzin shot them a particularly stinky eye over the top of the _Republic City Press_ before his gaze came to rest, as benevolently as possible, on Bolin.

"You've got a letter here," he said and handed over a small square envelope. "It's from my mother."

Bolin received the letter and examined it thoughtfully for a moment. Katara's handwriting was artistic considering her age, and the address was scrawled in midnight blue ink: _Bolin, care of Tenzin, Air Temple Island, Republic City._

"She wasn't sure of your address, so she sent it with another letter to me."

Bolin opened the envelope and read silently:

_Dearest Bolin; I hope this note finds you in good health and spirit. I send my deepest regrets that I am unable to attend your brother's funeral. However, I hope to do my part by offering an escape to you and your friends should you find you need spiritual guidance or rest in these troubled times. I would be happy to host all of you, and Tonraq and Senna have been desperate to see Korra besides. Please respond as you are able and I will make all the arrangements for lodgings when you arrive. If you are unable to come, please remember to take care of yourself in body and mind. I know what it's like to lose a dear brother too soon. Yours most sincerely, Katara._

When finished, Bolin folded the letter and looked dubiously to Tenzin. "She's invited us to visit," he said, "in case I need 'spiritual guidance.'"

"Did she?" Tenzin asked with interest, and Bolin nodded. "That's not an invitation she extends lightly."

By this time air acolytes began ushering in plates of food from the kitchen, and the airbender children squealed happily over their lunches.

"Do you suppose you'll take her up on the offer?" Tenzin continued as he folded the newspaper and tucked in to his meal. "It would be no trouble, I suppose, as long as Raiko would let us around the travel restriction. I imagine he'd be happy to be rid of us."

Bolin stared at the plate set in front of him. Brown mottled cubes rested beneath a sauce of crushed herbed tomatoes with a pile of only slightly lighter brown rice to the side. The earthbender felt suddenly nauseous.

"Are you all right?" Pema asked, noting the sickly shade of green he had taken on. "It's just fried tofu. We thought you might need the protein."

_It looks like Mako_, he wanted to say, but instead he just stammered stupidly. _Red and slimy, patches of skin. _His stomach lurched and he covered his mouth with his hand. He felt suddenly faint.

Korra recognized the trouble at once and reached deftly across the table to swap plates with him. When Bolin looked to her in thanks she offered no reply at all, but ate greedily instead. The least she could do would be to clear away the unappetizing food as quickly as possible.

Pema apologized for what she thought was a simple oversight. "I thought you liked fried tofu, I'm sorry," she said, but she heartened when Bolin tentatively ate the first of the conspicuously non-red vegetables on his new plate, the color returning slowly to his face.

Tenzin cleared his throat. "So, the letter?"

"I want to go visit Gran-Gran," said Jinora. "I think we ought to go," she appealed to Bolin. "A vacation would do all of us good right now, and would get us out of helping rebuild the city for a while."

Bolin nearly choked. He had completely forgotten about the rebuilding of Republic City. He had offered, perhaps stupidly, to assist in the construction of new buildings and infrastructure after the incident with Kuvira left downtown in rubble several weeks prior. Earthbenders were being recruited in staggering numbers and wages had been so promising that he couldn't refuse even if he didn't need the work. Lin Beifong had offered him a particularly high pay grade, knowing his value as an earth and lava bender. But then came the explosion and all thoughts of work were blown from his mind.

"I'd like to go, I think," he said at length, "but I promised Beifong I would help with new construction. I signed a contract almost immediately when the jobs opened."

Tenzin scoffed. "Lin will let you out of your contract, considering the circumstances. Otherwise I'm sure she'll postpone its start date until you're in better health."

Bolin looked to Asami and Korra. "Would you two like to come with?"

Asami grinned. "I wouldn't mind another vacation," she said. "It'll be good to clear our minds a little."

Korra nodded as well, her mouth full of half-masticated tofu squares. "It'd be nice to see my parents," she said, muffled.

Bolin looked to Tenzin for next steps.

"I'll speak with Raiko this afternoon and arrange our departure. Pema, if you'd be so kind as to phone Tonraq and Senna to let them know we'll be on the way…"

"Of course, dear."

Lunch finished and each went separate ways: Tenzin to the city to speak with President Raiko about travel restrictions; Pema to phone the Southern Water Tribe and inform them of their arrival; the children to do their daily chores; and Korra, Bolin, and Asami to the yard for Korra's daily training.

"I still find it hard to believe you can't bend," Asami said and took a seat beside Bolin on the stairs. She seemed to harbor no resentment toward Bolin for keeping Korra away the night prior, and Bolin found this slightly surprising. The two watched Korra display an acrobatic show of airbending with her face screwed up in concentration. "Have you tried?"

"A little. It just doesn't feel right."

"Well, why don't you try again?" Asami picked up a loose, palm sized stone from the ground beside her and held it out with a smile. "Maybe things will be better today."

He took the stone and rolled it over in his hand for a while, uncertain of what to do with it.

"Metalbend it."

Bolin looked at Asami, temporarily insulted. "You know I can't do that."

"That's not what I mean," she said, laughing. Then she took his hands and positioned them left over right, palms facing each other. "When you _tried_ to learn metalbending this was how they taught you to do it; a little bit at a time."

"Oh." Bolin felt a bit stupid for jumping to conclusions. All she had wanted him to do was reshape the stone.

With great concentration he flattened his right hand and flexed the fingers of his left. The stone shuddered a bit, but remained unchanged and resting even after several seconds. Bolin let out a great breath of frustration, tossed the stone aside, and dropped his hands to his lap.

"It's no use."

Korra had stopped her acrobatics and watched them from the yard. "Maybe you need some pressure under fire!" She called gleefully, and with a stomp and upward sweep of her arms raised a sizable block of earth from the ground. "Heads up!"

The earth came rocketing toward Asami and Bolin with unexpected speed. Asami ducked, but Bolin played along. He threw up his hands as normal, ready to deflect the rock or catch it and throw it back, but the thing didn't slow and didn't change trajectory. He had barely enough time to cover his face with his arms before it bowled him over with a grunt.

By the time he had righted himself and surveyed the damage to his left arm Korra was beside him with healing water in hand. "I'm so sorry," she stammered. "I wasn't thinking."

Bolin rolled up his sleeve and grimaced at the wound. The skin of his forearm had split and already a bruise had begun to rise. All told it looked much worse than it actually felt. But Korra applied the water and worked it into the wound with care, and what pain was there eased.

"Don't worry about it. We all know I bend best under pressure," he said, resigned. "Didn't learn I was an earthbender until Mako and I—" startled, he stopped short and sighed. "But lavabending is useful."

His attempt at levity was not lost on Korra or Asami.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Asami said. "We'll go visit Katara and she'll get you sorted out."

Korra nodded her assent and removed the water from Bolin's now injury-free arm. "She's the best healer I've ever met. If anyone can fix you up it's her."

_But this isn't an injury,_ Bolin thought. _I'm just blocked_. Then he perked up and looked between his two friends. "That's it," he said with sudden clarity. "It's like I've been chi blocked."

"I'm sure she can fix it," Korra repeated.

Bolin, Korra, and Asami spent the afternoon together in leisure and took dinner in Bolin's room in the male dormitory over a halfhearted game of Pai Sho. The girls helped him clean a bit, encouraged him to continue his attempts to bend, and offered what comfort they could when sudden waves of emotion washed over him.

Just after dark, Tenzin returned to the compound bearing the first good news anyone had heard in a week. "I spoke with both Raiko and Lin," he said to the three. "Raiko will allow us out of the city as long as we provide a list of names and destinations, and requires escort out of Republic City boundaries."

Korra and Asami smiled wide and said as one, "Great!"

Tenzin looked to Bolin. "And there was no question about your contract with Lin. She said you can do whatever you'd like until you feel ready to return for work, but when you come back she's placing you in her special projects division."

"That sounds like Lin," Bolin replied.

"We can leave as soon as tomorrow," Tenzin continued. "Whenever you all are ready. We'll take Oogi."

Then Tenzin left, and Korra and Asami practically buzzed with excitement.

"This is great!" Korra exclaimed brightly. "Bolin, you're going to be healed by the best waterbender in history!"

Bolin seemed subdued. "It's not really healing, I'm not hurt."

"Then you're going to be receiving _spiritual guidance_ from the best healer in history!"

Asami stood and looked out the window. "You get some rest here," she said. "We'll get your things packed and ready to go so we can leave as soon as possible, okay?"

"There isn't much to pack," Bolin said.

Asami grinned at him. "Then it won't take very long."


	3. Awake

For innumerable hours a haze of semiconsciousness came and went in intervals without boundary. Horrifying dreams of the explosion at Ba Sing Se bled into a reality more empty and silent than pure oblivion. It was a reality that Mako did not care to cling to; he had neither the energy nor the focus to decide whether it was better to dream terrifying dreams or suffer a reality void of the senses. Often sleep overcame him without his knowledge.

Periodically he would feel hands pressed against his skin, poking and prodding, tugging and scraping, but these feelings came without pain or discomfort. He believed them to be dreams or delirious hallucinations void of image or sound.

Then all at once, Mako snapped back to pure and unfettered consciousness, opening his eyes to a world of absolute dark. He breathed deeply, fought rising anxiety, felt cold metal beneath his bare back, and strained to remember how he had gotten there. When he closed his eyes he could see the flash, the enormous fireball rolling out from Ba Sing Se's crumbling royal palace, and then blackness. He recalled hearing screams, feeling overwhelming heat, Wu clinging desperately to his shirt as he tried futilely to bend the flames. His dreams had seeped into reality.

Deep breaths quickened as terrible memories flooded into his mind. He could hear it all but could not recall seeing anything. And now all was cold and dark and noiseless: He was insulated. _They think I died_, he thought. _They've buried me. They've buried me alive. No, no, no. _

Frantically, Mako called out, "Help me! Help! Get me out of here! Bolin!"

His heart jumped to his throat and he choked on the words, suddenly aware of a pounding pressure in his head, a sharp pain in his temples. He felt the vibration of speech in his throat, felt his mouth moving to form words but the sound never reached his ears. He squinted his eyes, gingerly touched his closed lids, and opened them to blackness again. He screamed, terrified.

"Someone help me!" He cried, and even as his voice broke from exertion he felt only vague vibrations. "Get me out of here! Bolin!"

Hot tears burned his cheeks, and he thought to punch out against the confines of the casket, but to what end? He was a firebender, not an earthbender. If they had buried him he would never be able to get out. If he firebent against the metal it would serve only to roast him alive.

_No, no, no, it can't end like this. This can't be right. Bolin wouldn't have buried me. This can't be right, no, no, no. _

Mako tried to call out again but the words caught fast. The tears were too thick; he was breathing too hard. Panic. His head swam; he swooned. Panic. He was panting; hyperventilating. _This can't be. They wouldn't have buried me. I'm not dead!_

He sobbed and desperately punched forward—perhaps if he pounded hard enough against the box someone would hear him—but his fist caught only air and he paused, his chest heaving. He drew an enormous breath, held it, and reached cautiously upward. He waved his arms about and felt cold air against his bare skin.

_I'm not in a box,_ he thought. _Mausoleum? No. No, there's not a mausoleum that would take me. Where am I?_

"Help!" His horror was now compounded by confusion. "Somebody help me!"

He pushed himself to sit and cried out against searing pain in his palms. _Burned_, he thought. _I burned myself_. The sensation was familiar: He had burned himself many times before as a budding firebender. The pain was negotiable. The fear was insurmountable. He screamed again.

Suddenly there were hands on him—many pairs of frigid, bony, clinical hands—and Mako flailed against them in panic. They pressed against his chest and arms and shoulders with such force that he had no choice but to lie back, and they held him there with so much pressure it hurt.

"Help me!" he screamed. "Help me!"

Then he felt a finger on his chest that began to slowly trace letters. C-A-L-M. C-A-L-M. S-A-F-E. S-A-F-E. The pattern repeated over and over and over until Mako recognized the words, but he could not stop the adrenaline.

"Where am I? Who are you? Where is Bolin? Help me! Why can't I—" He slapped the hands away, frustrated.

He felt a prick in his shoulder and grimaced. The letters continued to trace icily against his chest. C-A-L-M. S-A-F-E. He tried to argue but his head felt fuzzy. He felt suddenly faint.

* * *

When next Mako woke he was reclined in a warm and comfortable chair, and was not surrounded by pitch darkness. When he opened his eyes he saw shapes; blurred blobs of color that moved around before him, but of which he could discern no detail. He found small comfort that he could hear better than he could see, though his left ear pounded and rang with tinnitus. His right picked up fuzzy voices that sounded far away and muffled. He could just barely identify the sound of his own rasped breathing.

A brown figure stopped before him and bent low. Mako knew at once that this was a person, dark haired and light skinned, and the closer the person got to him the more detail he could see.

"Can you hear me?" said the man, for it was indeed a man, and Mako could just barely understand the words he spoke. The man smelled of fire.

Mako nodded timidly.

"Can you see me?"

"Not very well," Mako replied. "Who are you?"

Quicker than Mako could react, the figure struck him. A swift backhand took him across the face and Mako tasted blood.

"You won't ask questions," said the figure, bending low again. "You will _answer_ questions."

Mako blinked against the pain and sat confused, waiting.

"Are you a firebender?"

He nodded.

"Are you able to bend lightning?"

He nodded again.

"Are you a combustion bender?"

"No."

The man took pause. Mako noted that the figure's head turned slightly. "Are you loyal to Firelord Izumi or any member of the Fire Nation cabinet?"

"No," Mako said and he tilted his head to the right. The ringing in his left was painful. He winced. "I'm from Republic City."

Another slap.

"Do you pledge your loyalty to the Democratic Society of Firebenders and swear allegiance to its leader on pain of death?"

"What?" Mako said, disoriented and uncertain that he had heard the words correctly. "The what?"

"Do you pledge your loyalty to the Democratic Society of Firebenders and swear allegiance to its leader?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The figure looked again to the side and issued an order to another. "Kill him."

"Wait!" Mako cried. "Wait! Yes! Yes!"

The figure looked Mako straight in the face. "Very good."

"Please," Mako begged, "I need to know..."

The figure didn't slap him again, which Mako took as permission to press on.

"Where am I? What happened?"

"We saved you," said the man. "We liberated you from the servitude of the Earth King, Wu."

"What? Why can't I hear? Why can't I see?"

"Unfortunate byproducts of the explosion that freed you," the figure replied, louder and more slowly this time, as if he had just been made aware of this issue. "Your eyesight will return in time, as you've no doubt noticed. Your hearing may not recover beyond what it has."

Stunned, Mako sat. He squinted at the figure and tried to focus on the images.

"I am Guan, leader of the Society and orchestrator of the liberation of firebenders in Ba Sing Se."

Mako's stomach dropped.

"You'll rest until your eyesight is fully restored. Until then, you will continue to be confined to a room in our compound."

"How long has it been? How long have I been unconscious?"

"That's not your concern. We'll speak again."

The blob of a man walked away, followed by a contingent of other blobs. Mako watched them to the door, or what he imagined was the door through the shapeless blurs. His stomach squeezed in knots and a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. A damp cloth wiped it away. Mako recoiled.

"Shush," said a woman beside him, and when Mako looked it appeared that she was comfortably seated. "You don't need to be afraid. My name is Toru, I've been your caretaker."

Mako squinted. The woman was dark haired and dark skinned, but he could not see much else. She dipped the towel into a basin atop a table beside her and then continued dabbing at his face even as he stared. She appeared to be smiling politely.

"Forgive Guan," she said loudly, leaning toward him. "He can be abrasive."

"Where am I?" Mako still heard his own voice as muffled and fuzzy.

"Unfortunately, I'm unable to answer your questions. I heard them all just now; I've been here the whole time. I'm sorry but I'll need to ask you a few things for the records while you're awake and aware. What is your name?"

"Why should I answer your questions if you won't answer mine?"

Toru sighed. "I'm sorry you had to come to us under such terrible circumstances, but there were other firebenders that needed liberation from Ba Sing Se. Chaos was a necessity. I promise that all of your questions will be answered in due time, but not until we know you can be trusted and will act as a supportive member of our society."

"What society?"

"What is your name?"

Rage bubbled in Mako's stomach. "What society?" he demanded, more sternly this time.

"Guan told you. We are the Democratic Society of Firebenders. Now, tell me your name. It's only fair, as I told you mine."

"Mako."

Toru scribbled something on a pad of paper on the table. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mako. Where are you from?"

"You said you heard the whole conversation," he said, irritated. "I'm from Republic City."

"Your vocation?"

"What?"

She leaned closer to him and spoke louder. "What do you do for a living, Mako? What is your job?"

His face screwed up with confusion. "I'm a cop," he stammered. She continued scribbling, and his eyes shot futilely to the paper. "I'm a detective."

"For the Republic City force?"

He nodded, eyes still on the paper. He couldn't read the writing. Toru paused and looked to him, then back to her work. It seemed she was reading from a script and filling in blanks when required. This was no casual conversation.

"Why were you guarding Earth King Wu?"

"Because that's the job I was assigned by my boss."

"Do you owe allegiance to Earth King Wu?"

"What?" This time the question was asked not because Mako didn't hear, but because he did not understand. "He's not the King any more. He stepped down. We were just overseeing the elections. And I'm not part of any nation. I'm from Republic City—it's its own separate…" Mako groped for the word, "republic."

"Do you have a family, Mako? Wife or children, brothers, sisters, mother and father?"

"Do I have to answer?"

Toru nodded.

"I have a brother," Mako said at length. Thinking about Bolin was strangely painful. How long had he been away? Had word got back to Republic City that he had survived? Did anyone know he had survived?

"Mako?" Toru pressed. "Are you all right?"

His gaze had drifted to the floor. He blinked hard as a sharp pain shot behind his eyes. "Fine."

"What is your brother's name and vocation?"

"I don't want to talk to you about him."

"You've got to answer the questions, Mako. You want to make a good first impression, don't you? If you don't answer the questions Guan will doubt your loyalty to the society."

Mako stood, irate. "I don't care about the stupid society!" He had started at a shout, but by the end of his statement his voice had diminished to a sickly whisper. He felt his blood pressure plummeting. His legs trembled and he collapsed back into the chair. His skin felt clammy.

"What is your brother's name and vocation," Toru repeated clinically, with another dab to Mako's forehead.

"Bolin," he said, resigned. "He's…" Mako stopped to think. Bolin had done so many things—pro bending, movers, begging, stealing, nothing—Mako couldn't honestly say what he was doing now, but there was the pending expansion of Republic City. "He'll be working on construction."

"Is he a bender?"

"Earthbender."

Toru seemed to perk up, and she looked at Mako thoughtfully. "Your names seem familiar, I think I've heard of you on the radio."

"We did a stint in pro bending."

"The Fire Ferrets!" she exclaimed happily. "Your team had a heck of a season a few years back, didn't you? With the Avatar? Excellent run, it was. A lot of people were sad to see you all retire."

Uncertain what to say, Mako uttered, "Thanks," under his breath.

"Does Bolin owe allegiance to Earth King Wu, Firelord Izumi, or either water tribe?"

"No." Mako regretted that things had gotten back to business so quickly.

"Does he know where you went with Earth King Wu?"

"He knows I went to Ba Sing Se, if that's what you mean. And stop calling him _Earth King Wu_. He's not the King any more."

"Any other relations I should know about?"

Mako thought briefly of his grandmother and cousins, still in Republic City, but he didn't feel close enough to them to suggest that their involvement in his life was of any consequence. He thought of Korra and Asami and suppressed a grimace. Certainly their new relationship had left no room for him. He wondered if they even remembered him.

"No," he said finally.

Toru scribbled on the paper for a while. Then she capped her pen and stood with a bounce. "Let me help you up, and slowly this time. I'll escort you to the healing center for your next session."

"Session of what?" Mako asked as Toru grasped his upper arm. He stood with difficulty and leaned against her.

"Healing," she replied, "I already told you this." She began to walk, easing Mako forward at a slow but comfortable pace until he stumbled clumsily, his left hip connecting hard with a table he'd not seen. "It may be best to close your eyes for now. This must be disorienting for you."

Mako nodded and obliged. He followed her only half-willingly, tired and modestly depressed, through several rooms where he could hear happy conversation. How strange his waking had been this time around; how strange that the Guan character he first met was so very different from Toru, who seemed to care about his well being at least superficially.

At last Toru situated Mako in another chair, this one hard and cold, and he watched her blob of color move to the far corner of the room to retrieve something. She returned with something in her hands, pulled a small square table to his side, and sat down.

"We'll begin with your eyes," she said. "Please close them."

Mako obeyed and in moments felt cool, wet relief around his face, seeping into his muscles, clearing away the pressure in his brain. He knew the sensation as healing water but had only ever had it applied to muscles cramps and superficial cuts. This penetrated deeper.

"Open your eyes."

With difficulty Mako opened his eyes against the coldness of the water. He saw the room around him in sharper focus than last time though fine details remained blurred through the thick swirling liquid. He blinked against the tingling sensation until Toru told him to close his eyes again, and he did so with relief. After another few minutes she pulled the water away and dabbed at his face with a towel.

"You're a waterbender," he said quietly.

"I'm a healer," Toru replied cheerfully. "My parents were from the north tribe, but I'm from Republic City like you."  
This felt strange to him. "Why is a waterbender working with the Democratic Whatever of Firebenders?"

Toru said nothing for a moment and moved to sit behind him. "I'm going to work on your ears," she said, her voice suddenly slightly frigid. "This will be uncomfortable. Relax as much as you're able."

The water muted what little ambient noise Mako had been able to hear moments prior. He thought absently of how strange all this was. Toru had seemed happy, at least on surface levels, until he had questioned her motives. No one could argue how strange it was for a waterbender to be working for a group of firebenders, especially with the way Guan had presented the situation. He did not know where he was or what was happening around him but a sinking feeling in his stomach told him that no good could come as a result.


	4. Healing Part 1: Tough Love

In all his wildest dreams Bolin had never imagined how relaxing a pool of icy water could be, even while being prodded, manipulated, and questioned by a woman four times his age. Katara had insisted upon beginning the healing process almost as soon as Oogi touched down in Southern Water Tribe territory, and while Korra, Tenzin, and the others were settling in she had escorted him to her tiny healing hut, encouraged him to dress down as far as he was comfortable, and helped him into the pool.

"As an earthbender it may be uncomfortable for you to be submerged like this," she had warned, "but I assure you that this is the best way to begin your spiritual healing."

Bolin insisted that he would be fine—pro bending had put him in the drink more times than he cared to count—and any discomfort came not from the water itself but instead from its frigid temperature. Still he settled in and rested his head against the edge of the tub.

Katara bent the water around him for what felt like hours—in reality minutes—before she began the questions.

"How are you feeling?" was the first. Katara's voice sounded far away and as gentle as the water around him.

What Bolin meant to be a coherent reply came out as a groan of utter bliss.

"Korra mentioned that you've been unable to earthbend," Katara continued casually. Bolin knew he should have felt indignant that the Avatar had told someone else, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "I'm going to ask you some questions and I'd like you to answer them as honestly as you can."

Another grunt.

"Please understand that these questions will be difficult, but everything you say to me will be in confidence. Unless you threaten to harm someone I'll keep anything you tell me secret forever."

"That's nice."

Katara smiled as she bent the water. "Are you happy?"

Bolin nodded without hesitation.

"Are you always happy?"

This time the nod came slower, but resolutely.

"How was your relationship with your brother?"

Bolin peeked at Katara dubiously, as if her questions were beginning to ruin the calm. "It was fine. We got along well. I loved him."

"Close your eyes and relax." She paused for a while as he complied. "How is your relationship with Asami?"

"Fine."

"Korra?"

"Fine." An edge of irritation had crept into Bolin's voice.

Katara sighed and stopped bending the water. Bolin looked at her perplexedly. "Do you understand how our bending works?"

"Well enough to do it," he replied shortly.

Katara began bending again, speaking slowly as she waved her arms. "Benders are gifted with special attunements to the elements, attunements which align through our chakras. When our chakras are in sync we are able to bend to our fullest potential, but when they fall out of sync our bending grows weak."

"So what?"

Again, Katara stopped bending and this time she gave Bolin a stern expression. When she spoke, however, her tone remained cordial if not motherly. "Your chakras are misaligned. My questions are designed to test the strength of your spiritual connections, to release anxiety, to _center_ you." She placed emphasis on the word as if it should have carried significant meaning. "Let me start again, with more transparency. Close your eyes and sit straight."

Bolin closed his eyes and sat straight.

"The base chakra is the foundation of your spirit. It centers around familial connections, and it is blocked by fear" she reached into the water and pressed one palm firmly against the base of his spine. He twitched slightly at her touch. "If these connections are strong, your base chakra is stable and can support a healthy spiritual system. If this chakra is weak…" she let the words drift away, paused, and removed her hands from the water before beginning again. "How was your childhood?"

"Terrible."

"Were your base needs met?"

"No."

"How was your relationship with your parents?"

"I don't remember much."

Clearly the agitation had not cleared away. Katara reached into the water and pressed her palm flat against his stomach, atop his naval. "The sacral chakra deals with problems of trust, individuality, and pleasure. Do you feel guilty that you don't remember your parents?" In response, Bolin's eye opened again and he glared daggers at her. Katara took this as affirmation and moved on without fuss. "Is it easy for you to stand up for yourself?"

"I'm a decent earthbender."

"Let me rephrase the question. How easy is it for you to express your beliefs? Will you tell someone if they are doing something you believe is wrong?"

Bolin hesitated. "Usually."

Katara pressed her hand against Bolin's chest then and continued with well-restrained frustration. "The solar plexus chakra deals with issues of willpower and self-confidence. Are you confident?"

Again Bolin hesitated, thinking of all the times he had had to give himself pep talks in times of pressure. He had lost count of the number of instances during which he had questioned his ability to follow through when people needed him, the number of times he had said or done something stupid or silly to redirect attention away from his self-perceived inadequacy.

"Are you afraid of change?"

All at once Bolin stood dripping from the pool, all the relaxation gone from him, and he glared down at Katara. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can't handle this right now. I don't understand what any of this has to do with Mako, and I don't understand how making me feel bad about myself is going to get my bending back."

Katara stood, unfazed, and produced a towel. "We don't need to do this again," she said genially as he dried and dressed. "I've found out all I need to know."

Bolin rounded on her after pulling on his parka. "What's that supposed to mean?" He seemed more confused than angry now.

Katara smiled and ushered him to the door. "There's no gentle way of describing how badly misaligned your chakras are. It's a wonder you ever learned to bend, considering your deep-seated problems."

Bolin looked hurt.

"Rest for tonight," Katara continued comfortingly. "We'll continue this tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," Bolin said.

"Not to worry," she escorted him to the parlor with a smile. "You're the second recipient of the _not as big of a jerk as you could have been_ award." When Bolin's face screwed up in confusion she laughed and added, "Considering all you've been through, you could have turned out much worse. May I walk with you?"

Before he could respond, Katara hooked her hand under his arm and led him into the night. The walk to Korra's parents' house was relatively short and the trek passed in comfortable silence. When he opened the door for her she stepped inside to greetings from a dozen happy faces, and Bolin entered behind her.

"Hey, Bo—oh…" Korra tried to greet him happily, but he walked past her without a word. As he passed, Pabu sprang from her lap to his shoulder with a chitter, and then Bolin entered into the room he had been assigned and closed the door. The Avatar turned to Katara with concern. "Things went well, then?"

"I had actually hoped to have a word with you," Katara said after sending round her greetings and patting Ikki and Meelo on the head as she walked past them. "Is there a place we might speak in private?"

Korra nodded and led Katara to her own bedroom. She pulled the chair away from her desk and motioned for Katara to sit, and Korra took a place opposite her on the bed. They sat in silence for a moment—Katara always seemed slightly distant when Korra was concerned—but then Katara spoke suddenly and with authority.

"I need a favor," she said. "I need to borrow your polar bear dog."

Korra quirked her eyebrow. "Sure," she said. "For what?"

With a sigh, Katara explained, "Things didn't go well, and I've dealt with enough earthbenders in my life to know that the lot of them, no matter how tender-hearted and kind they seem outwardly, are as stubborn as a moose-lion."

"That bad, huh?"

"Your friend is deeply troubled," Katara said, resigned. "You know as well as I do that spiritual energy flows like a stream through our bodies, keeping us in balance and allowing us to bend. When the debris of life blocks our streams, it often takes only a few items knocked loose to break through. But… To say that Bolin's stream is blocked would be understatement. It may take a little more force to knock things loose."

"So why do you need Naga, then? I mean, I'm happy to give her over, but—"

Katara smiled benevolently. "Traditional waterbender healing hasn't been working, nor have the airbender techniques that Aang taught me, not even in conjunction. I think that your friend needs some traditional earthbender meditation to release his blockages, and then we can start fresh."

"What does that mean?" Korra asked. "Traditional earthbending meditation?"

Katara smiled but avoided the question. "Bolin is supposed to be at the healing hut at sundown tomorrow. I'd like you to send Naga with him, wait an hour after he leaves, and then meet us near the hot spring two miles east of town. You mustn't tell Tenzin where we've gone or where you're going, he'll worry himself sick. Bring Asami, I don't want you traveling all that way by yourself."

Korra nodded.

"And bring your father as well. There may be some heavy lifting to do afterward."

Again, Korra nodded.

"Very good, then," Katara said, and she stood with renewed vigor. "I'll see you tomorrow evening."

The ancient waterbender left Korra in her room alone with her thoughts. It wasn't long after she left that Asami entered, looking perplexed. She sat on the bed beside Korra and watched her expectantly.

"What?" Korra said flatly.

"Well?" Asami replied. "What did she want?"

Korra shrugged. "To borrow Naga tomorrow night. Something about _traditional earthbender meditation_ she'll be doing with Bolin at the springs."

"He didn't seem happy when he walked in," Asami said pensively, and Korra nodded. "I hope she didn't push him too far."

The two left the conversation at that and readied themselves for sleep. They bedded down together, warm beneath the blankets, and dreamed peacefully until morning.

The next day passed in a hectic blur. Tenzin and his family had left the night prior to stay with Katara, and so Korra, Asami, and Bolin were left alone and slightly awkward with Tonraq and Senna. They breakfasted with cordial conversation which steered entirely away from Ba Sing Se or Mako, and though Korra and Asami were spirited and well rested, Bolin answered questions only when he was asked directly. He was agreeable enough, however, accepting second helpings that came without request and clearing his plate out of respect. Though everyone was curious, no one spoke of the healing sessions prior or to come, and Bolin offered no indication that he was willing to indulge any budding curiosity.

In the afternoon, Korra, Senna, and Asami went to market while Tonraq and Bolin sat round the fire discussing pro bending, brothers, and women. Much to Bolin's surprise the chieftain seemed more than aware—and oddly accepting—of his daughter's present conquests, explaining that the Avatar's spirit had lived many lives and so a wide range of romantic tastes was to be expected.

Bolin left at sundown as instructed, leading Naga along behind him, and arrived at the healing hut in fair spirits. Katara met him at the door with a wide smile.

"It's chilly tonight," she said in greeting, and Bolin heartily agreed. "Would you mind helping me up? I'm old, you see, and polar bear dogs are not my preferred mode of transport."

"Where are we going?"

"To a place full of spiritual energy," Katara replied, "where we can focus without interruption."

Naga dropped to the ground, Bolin helped Katara aboard, and the waterbending master navigated them away from the village. Naga kept a brisk pace even when Katara led her off the paved roads and into the wilds of the east, and Bolin asked no questions.

"I think this place will do," Katara said after a while when they had reached a clear flat blanketed with snow and ice, well beyond view of the city lights. "Naga, down."

The polar bear dog obliged and Bolin helped Katara from her perch. Then Katara motioned the dog away, told her firmly to stay put, and led Bolin into the center of the clearing.

"I figured you'd take me to the spirit portal," Bolin said absently. "You said we were going someplace with spiritual power."

Katara smiled and patted him gently on the shoulders, and as she walked away from him said, "Spiritual power manifests itself differently in all kinds of people and places." Then she rounded on him. "Are you ready?"

Genuinely perplexed, Bolin shrugged. "Ready for what?"

A hard-packed block of ice connected solidly with his shoulder, a projectile he had not seen coming, and as he recovered from his stagger Bolin looked to Katara in utter befuddlement. Another block came hurtling forth and this he dodged easily enough. As he watched her, she smiled.

"What are you doing?" Bolin asked in disbelief.

"Opening your chakras," Katara replied simply and sent a third block toward him. She had said the words playfully, and it seemed that her bending was only halfhearted. The ice that had hit him had not hurt and was more startling than it was damaging. "Fight back, Bolin. I won't go easy on you just because I'm old."

"I can't fight back!" Bolin cried, dodging another casually tossed shard. "Not only will Tenzin murder me, I can't bend!"

Katara planted her feet in an offensive posture and her face turned suddenly grave. "So be it."

Bolin's heart jumped to his throat. He had heard enough tales of this woman to know her prowess—at least in younger days—as a skilled waterbending warrior. Even in her old age she looked imposing enough to cause his stomach to constrict with anxiety. He moved to plead with her, but as soon as he raised his arms Katara's barrage began.

Ice shards pelted Bolin ceaselessly, mixed with larger chunks that sent him sprawling. All he could do was raise his arms to block and dodge what he could. "Stop it!" he cried. "This is ridiculous!"

A stream of icy liquid water smacked him across the face. "Stand up for yourself!" Katara demanded, sending another shard of ice his way. This one caught him mid-dodge, below the left eye, and opened a stinging slice that bled freely. Katara stopped for a moment while Bolin reeled from the blow, his hand pressed against his bleeding cheek with a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face. "This is pathetic," she said coldly. "It's no wonder Korra left you."

Bolin's eyes went wide, insulted. "What? She never _left_ me. She was never _with_ me to begin with."

Katara waved his argument away, and in the same fluid motion sent another barrage of ice and snow at him. He rolled deftly to the side. "It makes no difference. It's no wonder why," she called above the noise. "Southern Water Tribe girls like strong men!"

_Is she mocking me?_ Bolin thought as he blocked a shard with his forearm, anger building in his gut.

"Fight back!" Katara demanded, her voice intense but neutral. With a great sweep of her arms she raised an enormous boulder of ice and snowpack and hurled it with incredible speed.

Unable to dodge, Bolin planted his feet firmly. _It's now or never,_ he thought, _it's Bolin time. Bolin time. Come on…Bend! _His brow knit with intense concentration and he focused his energy on the earth beneath the snow, intending to raise a thick protective barrier before him as he had done a thousand times in the past. The movements came naturally: sweep the left foot back, a strong stomp forward with the right, lift the arms to draw the earth from the ground.

Nothing happened.

The glacier connected with a sickening crack, splintering against him and sending him sprawling to the ground, dazed, breathless, and angry. He rose at once to find more ice and snow and water flying toward him. He took two hard hits to the shoulders, one to the chest, another face full of water, and each blow left him angrier than the last—not at Katara, but at his own inability to defend against a woman he should easily best, if not out of sheer skill then out of pure stamina, strength, and youth. He was a lavabender—maybe the _only _lavabender—yet here an eighty-year-old healer was embarrassing him like a child.

"It's no wonder you grew up alone!" Katara mocked, all the joy gone from her voice. "How could your parents have survived having to protect a weakling like you?"

Another chunk of ice crashed into him. He wanted to shout at her how ridiculous such a statement was—he had been six years old when his parents died, completely incapable of earthbending, incapable of protecting them from anyone or anything, let alone a skilled psycho firebender. Though the thoughts raced through his head the words would not form in his mouth. All that came out was what sounded to him as an angry growl, animalistic and full of rage, and again he planted his feet.

The barrage intensified; bricks flew at him left and right with blinding speed and accuracy, Katara's insults continued, stinging as much as the physical attacks. "And your brother—if he was half as weak as you it's not a wonder he died!"

A lump of ice caught Bolin square in the forehead and he stumbled backward.

Bolin erupted.

With a cry of purest rage he fractured the earth. Fissures shot a hundred feet in all directions, opening jagged clefts in the ice, shaking the ground so severely that Katara fell. Bolin didn't see her go down. He didn't see anything. Never in his life had he been so utterly blinded by rage, deafened by rage, insulted or slandered.

Another guttural scream, fists pounded against the ground, and pillars of bright red-orange lava shot into the sky so high that they caught wind and darkened at their peaks. Bolin stood, pale faced and narrow eyed, and with a cry of exertion thrust forward his arms, sending a twelve-foot wave of molten rock surfing across the ground.

Katara moved with speed she didn't know she possessed. On her feet at once, terrified, she took one glance to the sky, raised her arms, and clenched her fists so tight her knuckles whitened. In a heartbeat the magma wave died with a brilliant splash and the lava pillars crashed to the ground, raising a cloud of steam so opaque that she couldn't see her own hands. Still she held on, longer than she would have liked, and only after the immense fog began to clear let Bolin fall limp to the ground.

Again she looked up, never more thankful in her long life for the predictability of the full moon.


	5. Healing Part 2: Released

Korra, Asami, and Tonraq watched the fight from afar with a healthy mix of amusement, anxiety, and wonder. The wholly one-sided battle was a show fit for festival days, made even more incredible by its source. Katara moved with the grace of a woman half her age and bent the water and ice with power only a lifetime of bending mastery could produce.

If anything the lot of them felt sorry for Bolin. Even from so far away they could see the desperation on his face as he absorbed hit after devastating hit. Each time Katara's ice blocks sent him sprawling Asami would gasp and cover her mouth, only to relax once he regained his feet. For a while he seemed to grow sluggish, exhausted, but then Katara began yelling words they could not understand and Bolin seemed to fill with renewed vigor. His expression shifted, his whole stance grew threatening. And then he exploded.

Slack jawed, Tonraq, Korra, and Asami watched the ground split and the magma erupt. A crack in the ice opened not ten feet to their right and a tendril of molten earth crept toward them slowly, inhibited by the snow. At once Korra moved to intervene but Tonraq grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and held her steady, his eyes locked unerringly on Katara.

They saw her bend, but no ice or water or snow came up in her grasp. Then the lava fell to the ground, the great cloud of steam rose, and the arena obscured. Korra looked to her father with horrified eyes but he continued to stare ahead resolutely.

"Wait," he said gravely. "Just wait."

The steam began to clear away slowly.

"Let's go," Tonraq said suddenly, and with one hand under Korra's arm and the other under Asami's he helped them to their feet.

The trio rushed to Katara's aid, fearing the worst. When they reached her she was standing, out of breath and exhausted, but unharmed. She didn't speak to them even as they barraged her with questions; she merely stared ahead and waited for the steam to clear.

"Tonraq, go get him, we'll need to get back to town as quickly as possible. I may have injured him, I couldn't see what I was doing."

Korra watched her father go. He moved swiftly, stepping deftly around sluggish lava streams. Once he reached the impassably vast flow encircling Bolin's body he surfed along a bridge of thick ice that hissed and melted as it met the heat. Then Tonraq knelt, scooped Bolin into his arms frantically, and rushed back wearing an expression of utmost concern.

"You bloodbent him," Korra cried as Tonraq went, her voice a mix of confusion and horror. Asami wore the same disgusted expression as Korra.

Katara breathed deep. "And it's a good thing I did. He would've killed me." She paused and looked to Korra. "Get Naga." Then when Korra had gone she looked to Asami. "I'll fashion us a sled, but we'll need to connect it to Naga's saddle. Can you do that?"

Asami nodded.

Katara raised a slab of ice from the earth, sculpting it as a litter with shallow sides and small blades. Asami removed Naga's leash and fastened the sled to the rear of her saddle. When Tonraq arrived he placed Bolin on the sled and all looked to Katara for orders.

"Tonraq, Korra, you make certain that his ride is as smooth as possible. Asami, dear, would you please help me up, and make certain that the sled doesn't come undone."

The lot did as they were told. As they rushed back toward town Katara continued her instructions urgently. "You must not tell anyone what happened here tonight."

"Did you _plan_ to bloodbend him?" Korra interrupted. There could be no coincidence that she'd brought Bolin out under the full moon. "It's illegal! He's my friend!"

"Enough, Korra!" Katara snapped, and the Avatar went silent. "I had hoped against it, but worried that whatever he had pent up might have an explosive ending. I had hoped that whatever was blocking his chakras was sadness or grief or mourning, instead it was rage."

"I don't think I've ever seen Bolin angry in my life," Asami stammered beneath her breath.

"Apparently not," Katara replied. "Bottling up that kind emotion is unhealthy."

They neared the hut and slowed their pace. When they arrived Tonraq helped Katara from Naga's back and planted her firmly on the ground.

"Get him inside," Katara urged, and she followed Tonraq into the hut. "Korra, Asami, you stay here. I'll need you in a moment." Then she and Tonraq disappeared into the private healing chamber. "Get those clothes off of him before he freezes to death," Korra heard her say through the closed door, then Katara said irritably, "Oh for goodness' sake, Tonraq, I raised two boys! Just get him in the water!"

Korra looked at Asami with mounting dread, but Asami merely shrugged.

"Korra!"

Korra rushed into the room. Tonraq was standing clear of the pool, scarlet faced with his eyes on the ground. Whatever immodesty had flustered him had been neatly concealed by the pool's wooden cover, half closed over Bolin's lower body, and Korra looked between all three people with confusion.

"Fire. We need heat," Katara ordered, beckoning Korra close. When Korra hesitated the healer grew agitated. "What is it with you young people and your fear of _bodies_."

At this, Korra moved quicker, seating herself beside the pool. Katara had opened a panel on the side of the enclosure, revealing a neat metal box tucked away beneath the basin. At once she began to firebend, pumping as much heat into the box as she could, and within a minute steam rose from the water.

"Now that's enough," Katara barked, "you don't want to boil the poor boy."

Korra stepped away from the basin and into her father's arms. They watched speechlessly as Katara waved her arms atop the pool, swirling the water gently over the scrapes and bruises and cuts she had wrought on Bolin's body.

"You don't need to stay for this if you're uncomfortable," Katara said with a deep breath, more gentle now that things had fallen apparently under control. "I imagine he'll be asleep for a while, perhaps all night, and when he wakes he'll be a wreck."

Tonraq tightened his grip on Korra's shoulders, a clear indication that he would prefer to go.

"I want to stay," Korra said. "Dad, you can go, I'll be okay. Will you send Asami in, if it's all right?"

Katara nodded her assent and Tonraq left. Asami entered moments later, timidly, wringing her hands and staring at the pool uncertainly. She took a seat against the wall beside Korra, and the two joined hands to watch intently as Katara continued her healing.

"So what happens next?" Asami asked after a while.

"I don't know," Katara replied. "All I do know is that you've got a powerful friend here, and you'd do well to keep him around."

The girls nodded as one.

"He'll be hurting for a while, you can count on that, but as for when he wakes up?" she shook her head slowly. "I brought up something primal. I don't know whether he was even aware of what he was doing. That's why I resorted to bloodbending, Korra."

Secretly, Katara hoped that she hadn't hurt him.

* * *

Bolin woke but did not open his eyes. He knew at once that he was submerged to his neck in the healing tank, that comfortably warm water was flowing around him, and that his body hurt more than it had hurt at any point in living memory. His head pounded, his muscles felt heavy and weak.

He was naked.

He was in the healing waters. Someone—Katara?—was bending that warm water around him. And he was naked.

"Relax," Katara said soothingly. "I know you're awake."

A thousand questions rocketed through Bolin's brain with emotions to match. Confused, he wanted to ask what had happened; afraid, he wanted to ask if he had hurt her; slightly ashamed, he wanted to ask why he was nude. Instead, what came out of his mouth was a lame, "I'm sorry."

He didn't even know what he was apologizing for, but it seemed the appropriate thing to say given the situation. He remembered the fighting up to the point where she had begun to insult him, but he couldn't remember the insults. He couldn't remember how it all ended. Somewhere along the line he had blacked out and everything after that fuzzy boundary was lost. He wanted to cry.

"You're all right, dear," Katara said. "Just relax. It's five o'clock in the morning, you've been asleep most of the night."

_Odd_, Bolin thought. _It feels like I haven't slept for days. _"We were in the middle of nowhere…"

"And now we're safe back in the healing hut. Tonraq helped me get you here. There's nothing to be ashamed of. I injured you, and now I'm healing you as thoroughly as I know how. You'd have frozen to death in those wet clothes of yours."

Bolin opened his eyes at last and noted with no shortage of relief that his modesty was concealed from the world by a thick wooden panel that covered half the pool. Then he noted with slightly less relief that Korra and Asami were sleeping atop each other on the floor in the corner of the room. Apparently, Katara noted his apprehension.

"They assisted me in getting you here," she explained. "Korra's been helping keep you warm, and she airbent your clothes dry. They didn't see anything."

"I don't care if they see me naked," Bolin replied without thinking, and went immediately scarlet. "That's…not what I meant…"

Katara smiled a wise old smile. "You seem flustered. Will you tell me what's going through your mind right now?"

"Everything hurts," he said and pressed his hands against his forehead, the heels of his hands resting against his eyes. "What did you do to me?" He remembered being pelted with ice over and over and over. He examined a pinkish-purplish bruise on his triceps. Then he touched his face where he recalled she had cut him. The gash remained, and his fingers came back with the slightest stain of red.

"I've not had a chance to heal that yet, unfortunately."

"Did I bend?"

Katara laughed a genuine, elated laugh. "Oh, sweet boy, you did, and it was magnificent. I genuinely feared for my life."

Bolin's eyes went wide.

"I didn't know you could bend lava. That's a rare gift. Only a few avatars have been known to possess that ability."

Bolin stammered stupidly. "I didn't hurt anyone…"

With a serene smile, Katara shook her head. "There's something you should know, and I'm sorry for it," she said, and paused to think. "You—I don't know how to describe what you did, but it was amazing. Berserk, I suppose. Mindless. You weren't yourself is what I'm trying to say: You're one of the most mindful people I think I've ever met."

"What did I do?" Bolin's voice trembled, terrified.

"Raw power. It was beautiful, but horrifying. You must've made a thousand cracks in the earth, and out of each one you drew the most amazing fountain of lava, fifteen or twenty feet high. You…you sent one of those fountains at me."

If possible, Bolin's eyes went wider.

"Again, I apologize. I was afraid, having never dealt with lavabending before. I expected some explosive release of emotions from you and thus timed our outing with the full moon. I didn't expect things to getquite so intense."

"You bloodbent me," Bolin said, at last coming to the realization.

"Please forgive me, Bolin," Katara said genuinely. "I had hoped never to use that ability again, but…you had me outmatched and I had to disable you before you hurt someone."

"Why can't I remember it?"

Again, Katara smiled. "As I said, you were not yourself. I trust you recall our discussion about chakras?"

Bolin nodded.

"Yours were backed up something terrible, dammed like a river. I had thought that your grief for the loss of your brother was what ultimately caused the blockage, resulting in your inability to bend, but after a time it became clear to me that your grief was only a small portion of your problem. All sorts of negative emotions blocked your energies, and what came out of you was the purest rage I've ever seen."

"Oh," Bolin said lamely.

"Left for too long, negative emotions build into resentment and anger, and it seems to be your nature to keep those emotions locked away. You might think you're letting them all go in the moment, but deep down somewhere they build up and are left unresolved. I cut loose the dam," Katara continued explaining, "and thus released all the things that were blocking you from bending. Each of these items will pass through the stream, and I beg of you to work through them in turn if they cause you more trouble."

Absently, Bolin looked to Korra and Asami in the corner, and he worried that they had seen this explosion Katara spoke of. He wondered what they would think of him.

"What do you feel when you look at them?"

The question caught Bolin off guard and his stomach gave a sick lurch, but he contemplated nonetheless. _Deal with the issues one by one_, he reminded himself, _or you'll be blocked all over again._

"I feel sad. And angry."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Bolin reasoned as he fidgeted in the water. "I shouldn't be sad to see them together. They love each other, and that's okay. I've got Opal, and that's okay, too."

Katara smiled benevolently. "You've dodged the question well enough, now answer it. Why are you sad?"

The answer had, in truth, always been in the back of Bolin's mind, but any time it bubbled to the surface he pushed it back down again. The issue was over and done, resolved years ago, and bringing it back up would do no one any good.

"Bolin?" Katara prodded. "I can tell by the look on your face that you're trying to rationalize. Just answer the question. This is part of dealing with the problems, you see. Reasoning your way out of something is not the same as facing your feelings."

The words caught in his throat when first he tried to speak. But Bolin swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and finally said; "Everyone got a chance with Korra except for me."

"And you resent her?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I got one measly date, and Mako killed it before it ever got a chance to get off the ground."

"Do you think things would be different now if she had picked you instead of him?"

"I don't know," he said. "We were happy."

"Have you addressed this with Korra?"

Had he not been naked, Bolin would likely have sprung from the pool in outrage. "Of course not! I've got Opal! It's all over and done with, doesn't make any sense to—"

"Hum, you need to stop thinking about what makes sense," Katara said thoughtfully. "You earthbenders are wildly pragmatic, do you know that? Right now you're clearing away old blockage, addressing problems that are harming your body and mind. I won't force you to talk to anyone about anything you don't feel comfortable with, and I'll never tell a soul what we've spoken of here tonight, but I encourage you to explore your emotions instead of rationalizing them."

Bolin nodded.

"And as for those two," she continued, "just remember that your love is no less valuable to them than the love they share with each other. I don't believe there's a person in this world who's ever lived without wondering what life would be like with another person. Perhaps you were always meant to wonder about Korra."

"You married Avatar Aang," Bolin said. "Did you ever wonder about how your life would be if you ended up with someone else?"

Again, Katara smiled. "Many times, with many different people. But that's not to say I wasn't extremely happy with Aang; I was." She paused and stopped bending the water. "I think it's time you got out," she said resolutely. "There's a spare bed here in the hut that you can sleep in, with a radio if you're not feeling restful. I weakened you quite a bit—I can't force you to sleep, but I want you to relax. And _actually_ relax, don't worry about what other people think about what happened tonight." She produced a towel and placed it on the wood panel covering the bath, and then retrieved his dried clothes from the corner. "I'll excuse myself so that you can dress in modesty. I need some sleep as well. You'll be in the second door on the left down the entryway."

Before Bolin could thank her, Katara left the room. He heaved a great sigh, grabbed the towel from the base of the pool, and quietly exited the basin. He wrapped the towel round his waist, pulled on his undershirt, and with a final rueful glance to Korra and Asami left to the room Katara had specified. Once in private he dried and dressed and flopped onto the bed, turning on the radio when he landed. The reception was poor but he could make out the early morning news broadcast over the fuzz.

"…in the wake of the Ba Sing Se attack. President Raiko will reopen Republic City's borders tomorrow morning, though travelers into the city will be subject to strict restrictions and search requirements. United Republic Armed Forces remain stationed for cleanup in Ba Sing Se, and small regiments have been spread throughout the Earth Kingdom. A fleet of ships remains in Republic City Harbor. These precautions come even though no further messages have been received from the DSF. Again we remind folks to remain vigilant. If you see or hear anything suspicious or out of place, report to your local authorities immediately."

Bolin sighed.

"In other news, the remaining Earth Kingdom elections finished yesterday with seventy-five percent turnout to the polls. Unsurprisingly, votes have been being counted quickly, and we have the following results in real time: In the Si Wong Desert, Na Zhang; in the Kolau Mountainous Region, Jun Wu Sung; in the Zao Fu Region, Suyin Beifong; in the Gaoling Region, Xiu Rei Huan. Ballots are still being counted from Omashu and the Northwest Forested Regions. We expect the remaining winners to be announced tomorrow.

"And now for your weather…"

"It's cold in the South Pole…" Bolin muttered dryly, and turned the dial on the radio. At least Suyin had won her election, he thought as he fine-tuned to the next station. He hadn't even known she was running. And the travel restrictions on Republic City were being lifted, so maybe he would finally be able to see Opal.

He settled on the clearest signal he could find: a jazzy station that did not fit his mood. Restless, Bolin rolled around on the bed, crushed the flat pillow between his elbow and his head, rolled some more, sat up, stretched, looked out the window, retuned the radio again, and lay back down. Katara's orders to relax kept rolling through his brain but his body simply would not comply. At last he found a relatively comfortable position flat on his back, arms behind his head, half tucked beneath the heavy blankets. He stared at the ceiling as crackling melodies floated over him, watched the sun begin to rise out of the east-facing window, and groped absently at his middle when his stomach grumbled angrily.

Half dozed, he heard the door open and sat bolt straight, startled. At some point the radio had gone to dead air and the sun had come up well over the horizon. Korra entered the room carrying a basin of water and she grinned at him widely.

"Good morning!" she said brightly.

"Good morning," Bolin replied, less so.

Korra sat across from him at the foot of the bed and placed the basin between them. "Katara asked me if I'd finish up some of the minor healing for her. She's helping Tenzin with the airbender kids. Apparently they're reopening travel to Republic City tomorrow and Tenzin wants to get back early to avoid any trouble."

"Where's Asami?"

Korra's smile widened. "She's rustling up some breakfast for all of us. Now let me take a look at you." She grabbed him by the chin, perhaps more roughly than she intended, and scrutinized the cut on his cheek. "That's not minor," she said with a pout.

Still, she drew the water from the basin and bent it round the wound with her brow wrinkled in concentration. Bolin fidgeted, his eyes locked on his fingers. After a bit, Korra dropped the water into the basin and moved on to a bruise on his arm, then a cut on his other arm, all without a single word.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to completely close that scratch on your face," she said dully while tending the fourth superficial bruise. "It's a lot deeper than it looks. Do you want me to try again?"

Bolin shrugged.

"Are you okay?"

Fidgeting still, Bolin struggled for words with Katara's recommendation rushing through his brain. He felt like a large swarm of buzzard wasps had suddenly taken residence in his stomach. "The last few weeks have been sort of bad," he said, and then looked discouraged by his understatement. "I mean, I lost everything. I mean, I still have Pabu, and I've got you and Asami, I suppose, and Tenzin, I guess. But…"

Korra deposited the water in the basin, her full attention on her distressed companion. It was concern that knitted her brow now, not concentration, and Bolin noted the expression with doubled anxiety.

"Look," he said bluntly, "I'm just not happy with the way things turned out." He paused and glanced up at her, then immediately back at his hands. His face felt very hot. "Between us."

Korra's head tilted, and Bolin was struck by her resemblance to a confused Naga. Still, she remained quiet.

"I'm happy with Opal, don't get me wrong," he rambled, "and I'm happy that you and Asami have—well, whatever it is you two have, I'm happy for you. I just don't think I got the chance I deserved…" his face crinkled in frustration and he sighed deeply. "I just want to know that the right decisions were made."

Korra didn't know what to say. "You're such a nice guy," she said at last. "Opal is lucky."

Bolin looked at her sheepishly.

"Maybe things didn't go well for us, but I'm happy with what we've got," Korra continued gently. "Tenzin told me once, when Mako and I were having issues…" She paused to read Bolin's reaction to Mako's name. When nothing came, she continued, "Relationships don't have to be _romantic_ to be intimate, is what he told me. What you and I have isn't romantic, not by a long stretch, but I know if I'm ever in trouble I can come to you and you'll have my back, and you'll make me feel better. And I hope I'll be able to do the same for you when you need me."

Bolin recalled their night together after Mako's burial, and a pang of regret stabbed at his stomach. It had been like lying with a sister, or what he imagined that would feel like: Without romantic intention at all. He had just needed comfort, someone familiar and friendly and nonjudgmental to stay with him. Mako had always filled that role for him, though certainly the brothers had never spent the night in such an intimate position as he and Korra had. Was the Avatar the one to fill that role now? The one with whom he should be intimate but not romantic?

"I'm sorry," he said. After a long silence he looked up and noticed the slightest hint of wetness at the edges of Korra's eyes. Surprised, he held up his hands and stammered, "Oh no, I'm so sorry. I upset you. I didn't mean to upset you!" She hadn't even cried at the funeral.

She threw herself on him, upturning the bowl of water and wrapping him in a breathtakingly strong embrace. "You big idiot," she choked, burying her face in his shoulder. "Stop being sorry about everything! Stop worrying about everyone else! You've got to take care of you first!"

"I'm sorry!"

With a genuine laugh Korra pulled back, tears still in her eyes. She gripped him round both cheeks and planted a firm kiss in the middle of his forehead.

"Ow!"

Surprised, Korra fell back and watched Bolin grope at the cut on his face. "You can't go five minutes without hurting me, can you, woman?" he cried, and she laughed.

"I think it's my turn to apologize," Korra said, happy again. She righted the overturned bowl and drew the spilt water from the bedclothes, replacing it in the basin. "Are you going to be all right?"

His grin was lopsided and halfhearted. "I hope so."


	6. Imprisoned

The room in which Mako had been confined was cramped but comfortable, with a wall-mounted wood framed cot, a desk and chair, a toilet, and a sink. A single shelf had been recessed into the wall above the desk and contained old, dog-eared volumes of firebending propaganda dating to well before the hundred-year war. The room was just wide enough to pull out the chair and sit, and long enough that he could pace for five seconds in each direction before needing to turn around.

Daily healing sessions for four days had brought his eyesight almost entirely back to normal, and his hearing recovered as well though it remained better on his right side than his left, which still painfully rang several times daily. These sessions were the only time he was permitted to leave the cell and absorb his surroundings. From these trips Mako surmised that the place at large had once been a prison of some kind, refurbished to seem more as a group of dormitories than a lockup. His room sat along a square block several stories high with a wide-open courtyard in the middle where people in varying states of health took part in a wide array of activities from reading to weightlifting to playfully firebending with each other. They all appeared happy enough.

Toru remained his caretaker and escort, and she seemed well liked among the compound. Now that Mako could see he understood why: She was young, perhaps Bolin's age, bright-eyed and always smiling, but with a slightly sad look in her eyes all the same. Each day she came to his cell around noon with lunch—usually plain white rice and some vegetable or tofu—dined with him in quiet, then led him to the healing center, a smaller block of larger rooms equipped with comfortable chairs and enormous basins of clear, clean water. Often Mako wondered how many waterbenders were employed here but he never bothered to ask. Ever since he asked why she was here, Toru seemed unwilling to talk much.

He was pacing when she entered that day, and she wore an expression of dismay. Mako stopped and watched her standing in the doorway, rocking nervously back and forth from her toes to her heels. "What's wrong?"

"You've been healed as much as you can be," she said quietly. "I'm afraid our time together is over."

Mako was uncertain how to react to the news. He was surprised that she had come to tell him this, considering the impersonality of the place, and at the same time apprehensive about what was to come next. He simply stared.

"You'll be transferred out of this compound to your new home tomorrow," Toru continued. "Since you're healthy you're able to be integrated into the Society."

"Integrated into the Society…" Mako parroted dumbly. "What does that even mean?"

"When we first met I told you that your questions would be answered, but circumstances have prevented me from making good on that promise. I'm sorry for that," Toru stepped past him and sat on the edge of the bed. "Sit."

Mako straddled the desk chair and rested his chin on his palm. Toru extended her hand and revealed a small silver key, glanced at Mako, and then looked away. "Take it."

"What is it?" Mako asked as he pocketed the key.

"I said you have until tomorrow until you're relocated," she said. "Use this time to find the answers to your questions."

"Why can't you answer my questions?"

Toru looked at the floor as though ashamed. "I shouldn't be talking to you at all. You see, Guan is—was—" she sighed deeply. "He's my fiancé. He doesn't want me to spend time with the residents. If I disobey…"

She had said the words with such sadness that Mako couldn't help but feel sorry for her, yet the simple explanation answered many questions. "You're as much a prisoner as I am," he said.

"No! No! We're not prisoners here!"

Mako raised an eyebrow. The words had come out passionately enough, but Toru's expression belied her confidence. He drew the key out of his pocket and considered it for a moment before waving it in front of her face. "What is this?"

"I stole it from the guards' chambers. It's a master copy; it'll get you into many rooms, but not all. The healers are given them, and so are the sentinels." She looked at him with sudden urgency. "You have to understand, Guan didn't react well to your interview."

"My interview…"

"The questions I asked you," Toru clarified. "The first time you were lucid I asked you a series of identifying questions…"

"Yeah, yeah I remember," Mako interrupted impatiently. "What do you mean he didn't react well?"

Toru cleared her throat and averted her gaze, then spoke slowly. "Our society is…blooming. We're not yet fully matured, but we're well on the way. Every firebender is valuable to us right now, especially those capable of lightning generation and combustion. That means you're valuable, you understand, Guan won't kill you no matter how much he threatens, but he's unsure where he wants to send you."

Mako tilted his head in confusion. "I don't understand."

"He knows you're connected with the Avatar, and he doesn't want that kind of threat against the Society. We can't handle it. He's very conflicted about what to do with you."

"So what?"

"Well, according to your interview there's only one link between you the Avatar outside of this compound, one connection that might drive her to search for you. You see, after you're integrated you'll be assigned a job for the greater good of the Society. You'll be sent out into the world to work for the betterment of firebenders everywhere, and we can't have outsiders interfering after you've been assimilated. The odds of you running into the Avatar are reasonably low. If you run into others, people you're very close to, they'll break your bond with the Society. It's happened before. People have died."

Mako grabbed Toru by the shoulders firmly. "What are you trying to say? I don't understand."

Toru shook her head desperately. "I don't know what they're planning yet. Guan is holding a meeting with his advisors this evening in the general assembly hall in cell block C to decide what they'll do with you."

"That's why you gave me the key…"

"I have to go."

"No!" Mako commanded, even as she stood. "I don't understand this _connection_ thing! What do you mean?"

Toru turned back at the door and shook her head, and then she left. Dumbfounded, Mako looked between the closed door and the key in his hand, his mind working to decode the strange conversation. She had said so much, yet so little. _Integration, assimilation, connection_. And this meeting? Clearly she had meant for him to eavesdrop, but he hadn't the slightest notion where cell block C was, nor what actual time the meeting was to take place. For an informant, Toru had been woefully inadequate.

Mako spent the rest of the day pacing the tiny walkway between the desk and the cot, laying down occasionally, staring at the key, and pacing some more, always thinking. He deduced several things: This was absolutely a healing camp or quarantine, where new firebenders were brought for rehabilitation and filtering; each firebender was given the same interview he had been, given a chance to accept or reject the Society. The leaders would judge them based on the results of their interview, and each person would be dealt with accordingly. There was a hierarchy, of which he presently sat at the bottom, and Guan at the top, and it seemed that the lines between stations were thick and impenetrable, particularly if the leaders' fiancée was in such a state of inferiority. Not all firebenders were equal, but all firebenders were important. Otherwise, Mako could not guess.

He lay on the cot until a guard delivered dinner, but he did not have the appetite for another bowl of plain white rice. Once it had gone cold he mustered his nerve and drew the key from his pocket—it was time to go.

Mako reached his first obstacle before he even left the room. Locked from the outside, he could not open the door nor could he reach the keyhole to unlock it. With a groan of frustration he examined the mechanism—the latch and bolt were old and rusted and attached the door from the inside. Promising, but he had no tools to remove it. So, he grabbed the desk chair and sat before the door, then cracked his knuckles and set to work.

With two fingers, he generated a small but precise flame that licked at the metal handle. He worked it on all sides, then the bolts, then the handle again, until the apparatus as a whole glowed faintly. Then he stood, pushed the chair away from the door, and gave a great heaving kick against the metal. Once. Twice. On the third kick the bolts gave way just enough that the door creaked slightly on its hinges.

Mako peeked into the cell block, grateful that the heating of the knob had taken long enough for the guards to clear. He stepped out gingerly, double and triple checking the corridor, and scouted over the railing into the courtyard. Everything was empty.

Quietly he crept down the walkway, eyes peeled for a sign of some kind that would tell him where to go. Finding nothing, he headed down the stairs, through the courtyard and toward the healing chambers, the only place he recognized beside his own cell, with hope that something would be there. Mako entered the block of healing cells and produced the silver key. He opened a door to darkness.

Relieved, he closed the door, conjured flame in his open palm, and peered around. This room was orderly, with a uniform hung on a peg and a clipboard and chart beside it. He stared with some effort at the paper—a form for a man named Lee Fong—but it revealed no interesting information. He left that room and opened another. This room's form was stamped with a large red X, which Mako supposed did not bode well. Upon further examination he found that this man, Jeong Wei, had no bending subspecialties, was a councilman from Ba Sing Se, and boasted an incredibly large family.

"They don't want anyone looking for us…" Mako uttered, and replaced the chart on the wall.

Resigned, he considered the uniform. No way he could pass for a waterbender, he thought, he looked too much like a firebender; his yellow eyes would give him away immediately to anyone who took half a glance at him. He moved toward the exit, no closer to answers than when he had set forth.

Again, he poked his head into the hall but this time it was not empty. Three uniformed guards had just recently passed by and were engaged in interesting conversation.

"New recruits ship out tomorrow morning then?"

"Yeah, but they haven't nailed down which ones yet."

His interest piqued, Mako followed stealthily down the hall, keeping a safe distance and darting between shadows.

"Why? Don't they normally have this thing ironed out by now?"

"Yeah. Some of these new guys are coming with baggage, and Guan isn't sure how he wants to handle things. I think they're just going to off the councilman and ship his body back to Ba Sing Se to be found in the wreckage. There's another one, young guy just itching to help out the order, they're going to send him off to some little village in the Earth kingdom to liberate more firebenders."

"Suicide mission, wouldn't it be?"

"Most definitely, but Guan will spin it so it looks like the earthbenders were the aggressors."

Mako paid no attention to where the guards were taking him, but he noted keenly that the corridors were growing more modern the farther they walked. At last the guards led him through a wide doorway which opened into another large refurbished cell block, though this one was far more lavish than the one in which he'd been housed. New fixtures lined the walkways, and each shining door was fitted with a plaque inscribed with a name and rank.

This must be cell block C.

He waited in the doorway, crouched in a shadow, for the three guard patrol to move away. Then he darted out into the open. He emerged in the lower level courtyard, the same as in his block, and noted a bright yellow light reflecting from the balustrade of the third story ring. He picked his way up the stairs, dodged a second patrol, and rushed up. Indeed, at the top of the way was a large windowed room. Within, seated round a large table, was a group of ten or twelve men ranging from very old to quite young, having a heated conversation.

_I've got to get in there,_ Mako thought as he crawled around the room, hiding beneath the windows. He came across a hall leading back, more cells on its right side, the windowed room on its left. Down he went. The door to the windowed room was the first on the left side. Another door just down the way was unmarked, dilapidated, unlit. Again he produced the key, unlocked the door, and pushed it open quietly.

He had expected to find a guard asleep, but instead found a room filled with mops and brooms, buckets, dustpans, and all manner of supplies. Again he closed the door, thanking his good luck, conjured a light, and looked around.

To his great surprise, a rusted old air duct apparently linked this room to the next, and he climbed up to it with care. More fire put to the metal, a gentle tug, and the cover dropped to the floor atop a pile of rags without a sound. Mako squeezed inside and shimmied his way forward until he could just barely make out the men seated round the table. They sounded angry.

"We can't take him!" a gray bearded and shriveled old man yelled. "He's a liability to the Society! He's too close to the Avatar, and if she finds out—"

_They're talking about me_, Mako thought immediately, and he strained to listen, tilting his right ear closer to the outlet. He hoped he hadn't missed too much.

"I'll not have him killed," said another man calmly, whose voice Mako recognized immediately as Guan but whose face he could not see. "He's too valuable."

"He's _not_ valuable!" Another man shouted. "Lightning benders are a dime a dozen these days, and he's got no marketable skills besides!"

Mako winced at the insult.

Guan laughed, and it was a bright, happy sound. "You idiot. He's probably the _most_ marketable of all the new recruits, considering we've got no more combustion benders to send out. Shin did some research into him, you see, after Toru did his interview and found out about the pro bending bit. Yes, he's got baggage and a weak connection to Avatar Korra, but he's got a history with the Triads, he's got knowledge of Republic City's police force, he's got _street smarts_ that we don't get to see with your traditional merchant or councilman."

"Never mind the councilman!" the first man shouted, pounding his fist on the table. "We've already decided on him."

"You can kill your councilman," Guan cooed, "but I get the boy in return. We don't have anyone else who can navigate Republic City like he'll be able to."

"And what do we do when people come looking for him?" said the second man.

A third, unfamiliar voice piped up rather timidly. This one Mako could see as a younger man, bespectacled and thin, without much confidence in his posture. "Republic City thinks he's dead," he said, adjusting his glasses. "It was in the papers last week, they gave him an honorable funeral service with police escorts and everything."

"Lovely!" Guan cried happily.

Mako covered his mouth to suppress a gasp as familiar panic filled his gut. He _was_ dead? They had buried him? It was published in the city paper? His stomach tightened and he felt sick. Bolin was mourning him, Bolin thought he was dead. He had to get out word. He had to let someone know that he was okay.

"They're bound to discover that they buried the wrong man," said the graybeard. "If we send this Mako kid out into the streets to do our work for us, _especially_ if he goes to negotiate with the Triad in Republic City, someone is going to spot him and recognize him. The _Triad_ will recognize him, won't they? Someone will find out eventually."

Guan waved his hand dismissively. "The only people that will recognize him are this brother and Beifong, and the Avatar if she's around. If we do things correctly our men will be in Republic City while Korra is busy negotiating with our representatives in the Fire Nation, hundreds of miles away, after we kill Izumi. Beifong will never see him if he stays underground, and the Triads are under new leadership since the snafu with the Equalists. It's been years since any of those roughs have seen him. Besides, they _buried him_. They saw his body all burned and charred and they put it in a box in the ground. Nobody is going to believe themselves if they see a guy who bears a resemblance to him wandering around. They'll think their eyes are playing tricks."

"What about the brother? Certainly he would have recognized the body as a fake."

At this, the bespectacled man spoke out. "There was no indication that such was the case," he said.

"We need to plan for every contingency if we're going to keep this kid alive," said the graybeard forcefully. "You said so yourself."

"Toru made a note that the brother would be working on construction in Republic City. We have a group of combustion benders there now, don't we? Waiting for orders?" There was a pause, as if he was waiting on some response. Then, Guan continued, "If you're worried about it, send word out to kill the brother, then we won't have anyone worried about finding our guy. In that line of work it should be easy enough for some kind of accident to happen, and combustion would be the easiest way to make that so. It'll give my cousins something to do while they wait for the big jobs."

Mako's blood ran cold. His first instinct was to rush into the room, fire blazing away, but he halted himself. That would only get him killed. No, he had to use his brain, and quickly.

Silently, Mako shuffled backward and dropped from the vent, touching down softly on the pile of rags. He had to find a radio, a telephone, anything to get word back to Republic City. Guan's men were already there. They would have orders soon. In rising panic he crouched round the windowed room and bolted down the stairs back toward the healing center. Certainly there would be some manner of communication somewhere there.

Into a room he went, flicking on the lights without hesitation. He searched frantically but to no avail. Back into the hallway. Another room. Nothing. Another. Nothing. Back into the hall. Frozen with anxiety, he looked all around. The whole block looked the same. There was no indication that this compound had any contact with the outside at all, and the hallways were fully abandoned now. There were no guards to follow to his answers.

His heart in his throat, Mako returned to his room, latched the door as best he could, and threw the key down the toilet. Then, tears in his eyes, he collapsed onto the bed.

He was a helpless prisoner. He was stuck.

And Bolin was in trouble.


	7. Boot Camp

They came for Mako early in the morning, and after a sleepless night spent panicking over what he'd heard he put up no resistance. Two guards dressed in maroon uniforms grasped him by the arms and ushered him out of his cell, through the courtyard, and out into the open. If anyone had noticed the disrepair of his door, they said nothing.

The outside of the building was all red metal, rusted and flaky. The building exited to a leveled concrete platform, gated in by a massive rock wall dozens of feet high. This place was old, Mako thought, ancient, yet somehow familiar.

He joined with a group of others, men and women of which half looked terrified and the others excited, and watched as a gondola came sliding down across the sky. Occasionally he lost the car in great puffs of humid sulfuric steam that rose from below, and as it settled on a platform opposite him, realization hit Mako like a brick.

_The Boiling Rock,_ he thought, his eyes wide. _This is…was…The Boiling Rock_.

He had read about the old Fire Nation prison in one of Jinora's books years ago, back when he and the others were running about the world in Asami's airship to discover new airbenders after Harmonic Convergence. It was the same book in which he'd read about Lake Laogai. Citizens of all nations were held here after being convicted of crimes against the Fire Nation, and were subjected to horrible living conditions and rooms called _coolers_ that lowered body temperature to the point at which firebenders could no longer bend. But according to the text, the prison had been shut down years ago, had been defunded and left to rot in the wake of the war. Firelord Izumi had seen to it that such a barbaric place was eradicated…

A guard shoved Mako hard from behind toward the gondola and he boarded quietly with the other passengers. With a groan the car moved back along the cable toward a platform high atop the rock walls surrounding the enormous boiling lake, and Mako's mind began to work. He was in Fire Nation territory, many many miles from Ba Sing Se, but not _too_ far from Republic City. With the number of guards around him and the others there was no hope to make a run for it, much less with the lake of scalding water bubbling beneath him, but perhaps he could send out a message the old fashioned way.

A quick glance around the interior of the gondola and Mako spotted opportunity. A small spiral bound book sat atop a control panel near the front of the car, a pencil stuck in its binding. He reasoned that it must be a logbook. If only he could get his hands on it, he would have _something_ to work with. He recalled reading about the old Fire Nation Army using carrier hawks to deliver messages—perhaps the birds would remember.

Feigning interest in the view, Mako shuffled toward the front of the car and waited near the console. Then, all at once, the gondola shifted to a stop and the guards began to wrangle the prisoners through its rusted door. Wordlessly, Mako slipped his hand toward the logbook and pocketed it, unexpectedly thankful for his years on Republic City's streets. Then he moved through the door with the others, a flood of adrenaline pulsing through him, and concentrated solely on keeping his breathing steady, surreptitious. Now he had only to make it away from here without anyone noticing the logbook had gone missing.

His plans lately contained far too many _ifs_ for his liking.

The herd of prisoners was prodded toward an enormous boat waiting on the shore. They filed into its unremarkable hull, where each man and woman was chained and seated on a long metal stool. A guard placed Mako uncomfortably somewhere in the middle of the group, and Mako felt keenly claustrophobic, not due to the tight spaces nor the bodies pressed against his, but instead because he realized for the first time that every person here seemed exactly like him. They all wore the same ragged burgundy uniform that he wore, they all looked shabby and tired, just barely able to keep their feet. If anything, he felt he might be in better shape than most of those around him.

As the boat moved away from shore Mako noticed a boy across the aisle who was smiling dumbly at him. Brow raised, Mako spoke skeptically, "What're you so happy about?"

"You look familiar!" said the boy cheerily. He couldn't have been more than fifteen or so, but looked every bit a stereotypical firebender. No sooner had the boy spoken than he looked suddenly crestfallen. "But I don't remember from where."

Perplexed, Mako adjusted in his seat. The logbook was pressing uncomfortably into his rump. "Where are you from?"

"Oh," said the boy, "I'm from a tiny village near Crescent Island. It's its own island, though. We don't talk to the outside much."

"Informative."

"What's your name?" said the boy, again cheery and bright-eyed.

"Mako."

"Cool. My name is Yaozhu. Where are you from?"

"Republic City." Mako was tired of the cordiality, and his voice reflected his mood. If he could have, he would have crossed his arms, but they were bolted too tightly to the bench.

"Do you know where we're going?"

"No."

"Will you be my friend?"

Mako looked up suddenly, struck dumb by the sudden unexpected request. "What?"

Again, the boy looked disappointed. "Well, um…" he stammered. "My family was all sent ahead without me because I wasn't of age yet. I just turned sixteen a week ago."

"Oh," Mako replied, still deadpan and slightly unnerved by how little the _poor orphaned boy_ excuse affected him any more. Five years ago he would've instantly granted the kid a _yes_ to friendship just by virtue of shared experience. Yet it sounded like Yaozhu's family was still alive somewhere, and Mako didn't care.

"We're combustion benders, you see," Yaozhu continued, brightly again and apparently unaware of Mako's wandering thoughts, "so we're in high demand for His Excellency, Guan! Now that I'm of age I can go to work!"

Mako scrutinized the boy even more thoroughly now. He had met only one combustion bender in his life, P'li, who had been a member of the Red Lotus and tried to kill Korra four years ago. The boy bore no outward indication of his combustion bending as P'li had, there was no third eye tattooed on his forehead, no menacing expression, no apparent insanity or psychosis.

"Why don't you have a tattoo?" Mako asked, genuinely interested now. "I thought all combustion benders had tattoos on their foreheads."

Yaozhu smiled. "No, not yet. We're not allowed to get tattoos until we've mastered combustion bending. I, ah… I'm not very good at it yet."

A budding combustion bender. Mako could have laughed if the notion wasn't so absurd.

"So, will you be my friend, Mako?"

"Yeah, whatever," Mako replied. Apparently satisfied, Yaozhu fell quiet, still grinning.

Mako's stomach had been rumbling for an hour when the ship gave a sudden lurch, and the bobbing of the waves seemed to stop. Water slapped against the hull of the boat. He looked around, as did the other prisoners, and noted guards descending the stairs in numbers. There was one guard for each three prisoners by Mako's count, and they disconnected the chains from the benches and herded the prisoners above deck and onto dry land. They had docked on another island, it seemed, well developed but as disused and dilapidated as the Boiling Rock had been. He could see an enormous statue silhouetted against the noontime sun that had been apparently defaced yet still rose above the tops of the buildings. It belched fire.

A man descended the beach and stood before the gathering of prisoners, looking distinguished in a maroon uniform decorated with shining metal accents. His high red boots were as glistening as the metal, and he wore on his head a beret-like cap tilted ever slightly to the right. A metal crest on his right shoulder bore the Fire Nation Insignia from the Hundred Year War. The man was important, if nothing else, at huge contrast with his surroundings, and commanded immediate attention.

"Welcome to Fire Fountain City," the man projected, "your home for the next weeks. Here you will be conditioned and assimilated into the Democratic Society of Firebenders, and upon completion of your training you will be assigned duties within our ranks. Consider yourselves lucky, not many make it this far, even among those touched by fire. You are rare and prized possessions of His Excellency Guan, Lord Protector of Firebenders everywhere, and you will do him good service." The man paused and looked between the faces of his audience, and when next he spoke his voice was menacing. "Be aware that failure to abide by the rules of this compound will result in punishment of an extreme nature. We do not wish to harm any firebender, but ultimately your well-being is your own responsibility. Consider this your only warning." He turned to the guards and nodded, then said, "Take them to their quarters. The first squad is expected in the yard in fifteen minutes."

Mako and the others marched single file toward the ruined city. He kept particular care to maintain the line after watching a woman stumble against her chains and fall outside of the rank, only to receive a swift punch in the back of the head. Mako grimaced for the woman. That had to have hurt.

The lane down which they walked eventually opened into a wide square over which the crumbling statue loomed. Mako looked up at it when the file stopped. The thing was supposed to be a human, though the left arm, shoulder, and head had been knocked off, and a great gout of fire sprang from the remnants of its neck like a flaming red fountain. Mako supposed that this was where the island had gotten its name.

At once the prisoners were separated into roughly equal groups, apparently by age. For better or worse, Yaozhu stood next to him at the end of the sorting along with seven other young men, and they watched as groups of elder benders were shoved off to their housing. When the yard had cleared another important looking man came before them.

"My name is Bingwei," the man said. His voice was clearer than the one on the beach, and his uniform had fewer metal adornments. He was distinctly younger, though still Mako's senior by a notable stretch. "I am your Captain, and you will address me as such. As the youngest members of the Society, you will be trained in fighting and insertion, and conditioned as warriors to maintain our freedom."

Mako's eyes wandered. He was already sick of the propaganda. A hawk flew overhead. A fist connected with the side of his face, and next he knew he was sprawled on the ground, his chained wrists at an awkward angle beneath him.

"I see you're going to be a problem, daydreamer," said Bingwei, roughing Mako back to his feet. He held Mako by the collar and glared into his face.

Mako glared back.

"You'll be fun to break."

Even though a knot was building in his throat, Mako forced himself to stare resolutely at the man. _I'm not playing along, _he thought. _Don't—_

Again, he was on the ground, his ears ringing painfully. This time it took him a long moment to struggle to his feet, so dazed was he, and when he finally stood Bingwei was addressing the rest, who were staring at Mako with terror.

"You will be taken to your quarters later. For now, we will lunch, and then you will begin training," Bingwei looked to the remaining few guards and nodded. "Unchain them."

Mako rubbed his wrists when the fetters had been removed, then rubbed his aching jaw and followed his rank into a building just off the plaza. It smelled like heaven—roasted meat of some kind, vegetables, sauces, and some spice that burned his nostrils when he inhaled—it was like being at home. His mouth watered.

The nine young men were seated at a table and presented with a single, tiny bowl of jasmine rice each.

"You have one minute!" Bingwei barked, and a bell rang overhead.

Around him, the others began to eat. Mako wondered how they could be breathing through the sheer amounts of rice they were stuffing in their mouths.

"Thirty seconds!"

Mako picked up the bowl and shoveled the rice into his mouth in suit. It was mushy, overcooked, and disgusting, but he barely tasted it as it slid down his throat. He wondered if this was how Bolin felt when he ate—if one could call what Bolin did _eating_.

Another bell rang and Bingwei shouted, "On your feet, men!"

The lot of them got to their feet.

"March!"

In a single file line, the group walked—shuffled—back out into the yard beneath the shadow of the statue. Bingwei screamed at them to form a line and they did, and when Bingwei shouted at them that their line was crooked they adjusted. Being at the center, Mako stood stone still, modestly afraid but too stubborn to show it.

"Your names!" Bingwei screamed, and he stood before Yaozhu, at the left end of the rank.

"Yaozhu Peng!" Yaozhu replied, imitating Bingwei's important tone.

Bingwei waited a beat, and struck Yaozhu to the ground. "You will refer to me as your _Captain_, boy!"

Yaozhu got slowly to his feet and stood straight, shoulders back, and said commandingly, "Yes, Captain! My name is Yaozhu Peng, Captain!"

_This is disgusting,_ Mako thought as Bingwei went down the line, _He's just a kid_. Each man introduced himself with the same gusto as Yaozhu had, addressing the captain by his title, giving his full name, standing at perfect attention. _I'm not a member of the United Forces. I don't have to deal with this. The Fire Nation can't conscript me, I'm not a citizen_.

Then Bingwei stood before him expectantly. "Your name!"

"Mako," replied Mako casually.

This time Mako anticipated the punch, and he blocked it deftly then jumped back out of rank. Bingwei, however, was not a man to be flustered.

"A man who denies his own punishment is the truest coward of them all," Bingwei said icily. And then he walked back to Yaozhu and struck the boy again, kicked him while he was down. Then he returned to Mako, who still stood in defensive posture, and looked smug. "Each time you defy me I'll hurt your fellows, then. Each time you defy me, the group will suffer. Is that what you want, _Mako_?"

Yaozhu rolled onto his side with a sickly groan, groping at his stomach. Mako felt sick. The kid had done nothing wrong. If anything, Yaozhu had done everything _right_ by measure of this crazed Captain.

Bingwei grabbed Mako's collar and pulled him back into rank. His nose an inch away, he barked, "Your name!"

"Mako, Captain," Mako replied timidly.

"Your surname!"

Mako floundered. Each of the others in his rank had had a last name, but he didn't. "I…Don't have a house name, sir."

Bingwei laughed haughtily, tossing Mako away and spraying him with just enough spittle to be disgusting. "I see how it is! Not only are you a half-wit coward, you're a half-wit, low-class _peasant_ of a coward." Then he moved down the line.

Minutes later, the group had finished their introductions, and Bingwei stood before them with his arms folded behind his back, surveying them. As a group they seemed strong, though the man to Mako's immediate right, named Chen, was slightly flabby, and the one to the right of Chen, named Jing, was outright fat.

"Hot squats! Now!" Barked Bingwei. "And count them!"

_I've never done a hot squat in my life,_ Mako groaned inwardly, though he bent and straightened his knees in rhythm with the rest.

"One hot squat, two hot squat, three hot squat, four hot squat!"

Yaozhu, despite his earlier mishap, was yelling loudest of the lot. Mako grumbled the words along with him, if only to keep the combustion bending boy—his friend—from any further harm.

By hot squat seventy, Mako began feeling nauseous. He'd eaten too much too fast. He was out of shape from his injuries after the explosion. Toru had assured him that he was ready to move on, but suddenly doubt was creeping into his mind. At ninety hot squats he felt faint. At one hundred hot squats, Bingwei commanded them to stop.

Chen stood with his hands on his knees, panting, his long black hair matted to his forehead, yellow eyes squinted closed.

"Stand straight, Chen Fu-Han!" Bingwei shouted at him, pulling Chen upright. "If you slouch again I'll make you do a hundred more!"

Chen promptly vomited down the front of his shirt, but stood resolutely with his eyes forward, his skin a sick green. Mako felt the food bubbling in his own stomach, his own nausea made worse by the smell of bile and overcooked, half-digested jasmine rice. He felt sweat pooling in the small of his back. It was suddenly very hot.

"Now run!" Bingwei snapped, and pointed into the heart of the city. The man at the end of the line opposite Yaozhu, named Fa, stumbled into a weak, halfhearted jog. Bingwei screamed, "Run!" again, and Fa picked up pace. To his credit, Bingwei ran right along with them.

Five circuits past the statue, fifty fire fists, seventy-five jumping jacks, fifty pushups, another circuit past the statue, and the whole of the group was delirious. Chen had vomited again on the fortieth jumping jack, prompting the extra twenty-five, and the rank was granted a brief break when Yaozhu collapsed on the thirtieth pushup. Mako didn't remember anything after that. All he knew was that somehow by evening he had wound up in a long, multi-storied dormitory with eight metal cots, hard as a stone, each with a single stiff pillow and the thinnest blanket he'd ever felt, surrounded by the smell of sweat and vomit and the slightest hint of jasmine. Still, it was better than sleeping on a trash heap.

He fainted onto the cot in his sweat soaked clothes, the gondola logbook forgotten in his back pocket.


	8. Conditioning

Mako woke in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat and barely made it to the window before he retched. What little remained of his lunch landed with a splat in a neat pile on the ground three stories below, and when he'd finished Mako hung half limp, his chest against the windowsill, his arms and head dangling outside in the cold night. His body had never ached so much in his life.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked out. The crumbling statue still breathed fire into the cloudless night, and Mako noted with passing interest that the sky was clear and starless, the moon full and bright, and far over the rooftops the sea rippled against a gentle breeze.

Had the situation not been so dire, had he not been in so much pain, Mako might have found the evening pleasant.

The nausea subsided and Mako pulled himself back inside with difficulty. His bunkmates slept loudly, half on their cots and half in some strange contortion with arms and legs hanging over the sides. Jing's whole top half was on the floor, his face pressed against the stone like a very fat pancake, crushed by the weight of his very fat body.

Mako leaned back against the windowsill and gave a start—the logbook was still in his pocket. He had completely forgotten it in the mayhem of yesterday. He produced it with a cringe of disgust: the palm-sized book had obviously been soaked through with sweat, though presently only the cover remained slightly damp. Mako opened it, unstuck several pages from each other, and perused its contents absently. Each page was a separate form listing a guard's name, the date, shift start time, shift end time, and any deployments of the gondola. The numbers were neat and, to judge by the various styles of handwriting, kept by each guard individually. It was three-quarters full.

A bit of quick math based on the last log completed revealed that it had been nine days since the explosion in Ba Sing Se, and twenty days since he'd left Republic City to help Wu oversee the elections. Mako's heart fluttered. He thought more time had passed.

Returning to his cot, Mako opened to a clean page and yanked the pencil from the spiral binding. What could he possibly write to Republic City? There was so much to tell, but the pages were so small and there was no guarantee that the note would ever find its way back to anyone of consequence. Even though he'd spotted a hawk earlier he couldn't be certain that he'd be able to catch one long enough to attach the note. Even if he attached the note there was no way to know that the hawk would reach anyone. What if it was intercepted by guards?

After a long period of thought, Mako settled and wrote: _I'm alive. Boiling Rock quarantine, moved to Fire Fountain City. Military camp. Protect Firelord. Protect lavabender. Send help. _He regarded the words pensively, wondering how much more information they would need, or how much he could provide without the letter pointing directly at him. He wanted to write something to Bolin directly. He wanted to write something to Korra and Asami. But the paper was too small, and if the guards around the island saw it…

Mako tore the page from the notebook and folded it twice. Then, in his tiniest handwriting he scrawled _Republic City Police_, and he rolled the note up and stuck it beneath his pillow. Resolved that his letter would make it, he took the logbook and pencil to the window, tossed it out, and incinerated them with a great _fwooosh_ that lit the plaza for a few seconds with orange-red fire. Having that thing on him for so long had been foolish and incriminating. He didn't care to think what would have happened had someone discovered he'd stolen it.

With another great sigh, Mako returned to his cot and laid back, arms folded behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. He fell into a dreamless sleep with thoughts of home running through his mind.

A few short hours later the blaring of a brassy horn jolted Mako from that sleep. Bleary eyed he noted his companions in a similar state of surprise. Bingwei stood in the doorway, a long metal instrument in his hand, and he blew into it a second time.

At the foot of each bed he had placed a pile of clothes.

"Dress! You have one minute!"

The lot of them practically flew from their beds and threw off their ragged, sweaty prisoner's garb. Mako felt nauseous again when he looked at Chen and Jing as they jiggled into their new uniforms, and only tentatively undressed. The new uniform was difficult to negotiate, high collared with asymmetrical golden buttons running up his right breast, stiff cuffs, and the same long boots all the generals wore. These were made of some kind of thick leather, and rather than traditional laces were held on by three wide straps that wrapped round the shin and buckled into place.

"Form rank!"

Yaozhu was first in line, and Mako stepped up behind him. The remaining seven had been caught in varying states of disarray: Fa was missing a boot and was presently hopping, trying to force it on; Chen had skipped three buttons on his shirt; Jing looked like a ten pound sausage stuffed in a nine pound casing. Bingwei reprimanded each of them in turn, screaming like a madman, until at last the nine stood in a single file line awaiting orders.

"Why aren't your beds made?" Bingwei asked slyly.

Against his better judgment, Mako said, "Because you didn't tell us to make them."

When he went down this time, his shoulder smashed against Yaozhu's cot.

"Make your beds! This place is disgusting!"

Each man scrambled to his bed, folded the thin blanket, adjusted the pillow, and returned to his place in line. Predictably, Yaozhu was first done and Bingwei regarded the boy with what might have been admiration. Mako was second, and fully expected another backhand. Instead, Bingwei screamed at the other seven, who were just now beginning to stumble back into line.

"I'm so tired," Mako heard Fa whisper. "I can't do this."

That day went much like the one prior. A fist-sized bowl of rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with plenty of running, squatting, and lifting between. The uniforms trapped heat and Chen fainted between breakfast and lunch. Mako tugged at his collar when he could find a moment that Bingwei wasn't watching. Just as intense as the day before, the training ended at sundown, and the rank filed into a large tiled room where Bingwei ordered them to undress, fold their uniforms, and place them in individual bins.

"Showers! Two minutes!"

They were the shortest, happiest two minutes of Mako's life. He didn't care that eight other men, disregarding the Captain, were naked in the same room. He didn't care that the temperature was tepid at best. All he cared about was the water rushing over his face, drawing the sweat from his aching body and relaxing his overworked muscles until he wanted to collapse. Beyond the point of exhaustion, he barely noticed when the water stopped, and still felt blissful when Bingwei tossed him his nightclothes, which Mako pulled on without drying.

"You will have two sets of uniforms. You are in charge of washing them daily. You will have one set of sleepwear. You will have one shower each three days for two minutes. Collect your things."

Upon arrival to the bunkhouse, Mako again collapsed onto his bunk in a dead sleep.

The third day went much like the second. The fourth day went much like the third. By the fifth day Mako's brain was too fatigued to consider how remarkable a feat it was that he was even standing, let alone being snarky with the Captain. He no longer felt it when Bingwei punished him, though when others were punished in his stead Mako felt keen regret. His muscles ached past the point of pain and his head swam. All he knew was that it had been a full twenty-four hours since the last time he'd been hit personally, and in that day his life had been much easier. All he had to do was follow orders, and then he'd be able to sleep again. Perhaps for only a few hours, but he would be able to lie down.

The sixth day began differently than the rest. Bingwei woke them with the horn—Mako discovered on the second day that this was a modified Tsungi—ordered them to dress and make their bunks, and filed them in rank. Today he escorted them not into the yard for one hundred and twenty hot squats, nor into the mess hall for rice, but into a brick building set deep in the island.

A stern looking woman stepped before them, dressed in the same uniform as Bingwei, and addressed them coldly. "Today will rest your bodies and test your minds. We will see where your loyalties lie."

Then each man was led into a separate room. Mako could not speak for the others, but his was cramped, with just enough room for two straight-back chairs and area to sit. Dimly lit, he could see little except the black metal chairs and a vent situated in the center of the ceiling, through which comfortable air flowed. Mako sat, and a middle-aged woman took her place in front of him. Clearly a firebender, she turned her yellow eyes on him appraisingly, and then produced from beneath her chair a clipboard and a black pen. She would occasionally, infuriatingly, chew the end of this pen as she talked.

"Your file suggests that you've been giving your commanding officer some trouble," said the woman at last, without inflection.

"I don't have a commanding officer."

The woman put a tick mark on the paper. "You served as bodyguard to Earth King Wu, before you were liberated?"

Mako grunted. It was as much affirmation as he was willing to give.

"What sorts of things did he do that you appreciated?"

This question caught Mako off guard. "What do you mean?"

"You were forced to serve him. What did he do to make that service palatable?"

"Uh…" Mako stammered. "I wasn't forced to serve him."

"It says in your file that you were assigned as his bodyguard by…"

"Okay so I was assigned, but I could've left if I had wanted. It was just a job."

Another tick on the paper.

"Did you receive any perks from this assignment?"

"I got new uniforms a couple of times," Mako said dumbly, thinking. "Free housing in a presidential suite for a few months…"

"We also have provided you with uniforms. Several of them. And we've provided you with excellent quality lodgings."

Mako's face screwed up in confusion. "Are you trying to compare yourselves to Wu?"

"What are your feelings toward waterbenders?"

"They're okay…"

"Airbenders?"

"Um…They're nice people?"

"Earthbenders?"

"My brother is an earthbender…"

"How do you feel about firebenders?"

At this, Mako's mind froze. True, he was a firebender in a compound full of firebenders, but somewhere in his mind he'd always harbored resentment toward them for killing his parents. He thought for a full minute, and the woman stared at him the whole while, chewing her pen, until he said calculatedly, "I wish they weren't always the bad guys."

The woman jotted some more notes down on the paper, and then stood. "All is well, then. Excuse me, someone else will be with you momentarily." She left, taking her chair with her as she did. She closed the door behind her, locked it, and what few lights there were went black.

Before Mako had the chance to cry in protest, a grainy picture illuminated the wall opposite the door. It was a generic firebender in the same standard uniform he wore, standing proudly with his chest puffed out and two Fire Nation girls hanging from his arms.

"What the…"

The picture lingered for a moment before flipping to another image, a pleasant one again, with a group of people happily sharing a meal. Mako scrutinized the picture. These people were too happy—there was no way this place could accurately reflect what was in that photo. Is that what they were trying to do?  
Suddenly the room flashed bright white and Mako winced against it. When he opened his eyes at last there was a new image, an angry man dressed in air acolyte attire, lunging out of the frame. A blast of cold air hit him in the face. Another blinding flash. The ground rumbled beneath him and a man dressed as a Dai Li agent burst onto the screen.

The first few images weren't so bad. The flashes startled him at first, but he was able to scrutinize the photos once his sight returned. Each of them, male and female, airbenders, earthbenders, and waterbenders, were all obviously Fire Nation. All of them were black haired, light skinned, with bright yellow-orange eyes.

_This is conditioning, _Mako thought suddenly, as another picture of an attractive and scantly clothed firebender girl flashed onto the screen, and warm air flowed over him. _This is a conditioning chamber. _

No sooner had he made the realization than the chamber went into sensory overload. With each picture came a new and uncomfortable sensation. Cold air blown in his face, icy water dumped over his head, hard blocks of earth—or was it earth?—connecting with his face and arms and stomach. The worst part was that he could predict nothing. Each picture flashed and seemingly at random the sensory feedback came. Faster and faster the cycles went, in random order, until Mako spluttered and coughed and gagged against the elements, his eyes squinted closed against the flashing. Then the chamber went dark and quiet, and slowly the firebender man from the first photo reappeared on the wall. Warm air flowed down over Mako, drying him, calming him, and a soothing voice floated on high.

"You are a firebender. Firebenders are friendly," the voice said sweetly. "Firebenders will not hurt you."

Then the onslaught began again without warning and at full intensity. Mako closed his eyes, curled against the chair. Between the air and the water, he was freezing. A blast of earth knocked him off balance to the ground. Breathless he struggled to his feet, a great wave of water blasted him from the right, and he slammed into the wall.

"Stop!" he cried, but if anyone heard him they did nothing. "Stop!"

Mako could not have said how long the event lasted, but by the time the firebender man reappeared on the wall he was pounding against the door in panic.

"You are a firebender. Firebenders are friendly," the voice called again. "Firebenders will not hurt you."

By the end of the next round of terror Mako had ceased pounding, ceased screaming, and sat hugging his knees in the corner, his eyes pressed firmly into his kneecaps.

And suddenly the door opened, and Mako stood upright, his eyes stinging with tears. It took him a moment to register what stood before him—a waterbender, an air acolyte, and a traditionally garbed earthbender. With a cry of terror he jumped backward, stumbled head over heels over the chair still bolted to the floor, and smacked the back of his head on the concrete. He lay there unmoving, heart pounding, only somewhat aware of what was happening around him. He groaned.

"Looks like that was effective," said Bingwei. "Get him to the bunkhouse. He won't need dinner."

Mako felt himself being pulled to his feet, and someone slapped him across the face. "Pull yourself together, soldier!"

When he opened his eyes, the other benders were gone. Bingwei and the two women from the compound were there, holding him upright. He shivered, cold and terrified, and Bingwei grasped him roughly by the arm. Bingwei half carried, half dragged him back to the bunkhouse.

_Was I seeing things?_

Yaozhu, Chen, Jing, Fa, and the others were already there, dressed comfortably in their nightclothes, occupied with washing their uniforms. Bingwei said nothing when he threw Mako into the room, but closed and locked the door behind him with a cold glare to the group. Mako lay on the floor until Yaozhu knelt at his side.

"Are you all right, friend?" asked the boy. "Can I wash your uniform for you?"

Mako groaned and accepted help to his feet, feeling a self-conscious wreck. Yaozhu gingerly assisted him in getting his coat off, and Mako changed into his nightclothes as the combustion bender began to wash.

"Where were you all day?" Chen asked. His voice was surprisingly deep considering how lame he looked. Mako had expected him to sound a bit nerdy.

Mako lie back on his bunk, his forearm draped over his eyes. "They put me in a conditioning chamber," he said, his voice a raspy whisper. Apparently he had screamed himself hoarse.

"What's that?" Yaozhu asked.

"You've never heard of conditioning?" Mako said as much as asked, incredulous. "Have you ever trained an animal?"

"No."

"I have!" Fa exclaimed happily. "My dad used to have a little pack of deer dogs and we used to take them for walks—"

Mako continued without acknowledging Fa had spoken. "Conditioning is when you force someone—or something, in an animal's case—to connect feelings with certain other things. Say you really like buffalo yak steaks—"

"I'm a vegetarian," Yaozhu interrupted.

With a groan, Mako continued, "Just for the sake of example, say a person really likes buffalo yak steaks. But every time you go to take a bite another person hurts you in some way…Eventually, and without ever even knowing it, you'll begin to dislike buffalo yak steaks because you connect the steak to the pain."

"Oh."

The response left Mako underwhelmed.

"How long was I gone?" Mako said.

"All day," said Chen helpfully. "We've all been back for a few hours now, they said we had earned leisure time."

"What did they do to you?" Mako asked. "In that building, what did they do to you?"

Yaozhu answered this time. "We were all separated, but I guess we all got the same treatment. They asked us what we thought of the Captain, and I said I didn't think he was a bad guy—a little bit strict maybe, but that's his job as a Captain. Then they asked us who we thought should lead our squad. Everyone said that you ought to be the one to do it because you seem to be the strongest of all of us."

Mako sat up on his elbows and regarded Yaozhu carefully. "You what now?"

"We told the people, all of us individually, that we thought you should be the leader of our squad."

"But the Captain…"

Chen jumped in to clarify, "Yaozhu means that once we're assigned our jobs, after training, you'll be in charge."

"I don't _want_ to be in charge," Mako replied, incensed. "I _want_ to go home. I want to talk to my brother! I want to let my friends know I'm not dead!"

Fa's ratty face narrowed into a frown. "That attitude is getting us in a lot of trouble," he said sternly. "Not all of us enjoy being here, but we've got no choice now. They told me they'd kill my family if I don't cooperate. I want my family to live, so I'm going to cooperate, and you need to do the same."

Yaozhu stopped his washing for a moment and shot a tentative glance at Mako. "I'm a little tired of being hit when you mess things up, too," he said. "I'm trying my best, I want to be successful here so I can get back to my family. I want to bring them honor, but I spend as much time being punished for what you've done wrong than I do being praised for carrying my weight. You said you'd be my friend, but the way you're acting and the way you're getting us in trouble…It's not very friendly at all."

Dumbstruck, Mako flailed for words. He already felt guilty for subjecting the others to poor treatment at his expense and had tried his best to remain more subdued in his defiance, but now they were asking him to give up completely, to adhere to the rules, to _lead_ them. Coupled with the physical exhaustion, the delirium from the conditioning chamber, the sleeplessness, and the hunger, Mako could barely think straight anyway.

"If I'm going to lead you, then I need to know you're going to work with me first," he said suddenly, an idea bursting into his mind. It was a risk, but if these men were as malleable as Mako thought... "I need your help."

"With what?" Yaozhu asked, having resumed washing.

Mako produced the note from beneath his pillow and brandished it at the others. "This is my last act of defiance. Before I left the quarantine center I overheard Guan—"

"His Excellency, Guan," Yaozhu corrected.

"Whatever…I heard him say that they're going to try and kill my little brother. That _can not_ happen, and as long as I know he's in danger you bet I'm going to fight my way out of here. This note is a warning to him to be on the lookout. If you want me to calm down, if you want me to lead you and help you and make you better members of this stupid society, you're going to help me get this letter out into the world."

The eight other men stared at him, wide eyed and disbelieving. Yaozhu was the first to grant Mako a tentative nod, then Chen, then the others in turn.

"We'll need to stun a hawk."


	9. Home At Last

A pair of heavily armored Republic City metalbenders stood vigil on every corner, accented here and there by the bright red overcoats of United Forces soldiers called in for backup. The many bridges, while notably open, swarmed with people seeking entry into the heart of the city, yet barriers of stone and metal blocked their paths and filtered them through thickly guarded checkpoints. Perhaps the city had been reopened, but it seemed more locked down now than ever.

Even Oogi met with some resistance upon entering into Republic City's limits. By the time the air bison touched down on Air Temple Island half a dozen United Forces biplanes were tailing him, and a contingent of metalbenders and White Lotus sentries stood waiting for the rather large company to disembark. Unflappable, Tenzin was first to the ground and waved the guards away. When they hesitated, Korra jumped from the saddle and stood beside him defiantly.

"If you truly think that the Avatar is going to cause harm to this city, you may want to look for another job," Tenzin said sternly.

The metalbenders left, and Tenzin and Korra helped the rest down.

"Wow," said Bolin once firmly on the ground, "they've really stepped up security around here."

Korra nodded grimly. "The reports on the radio made it sound like everything was getting back to normal, but I don't think this is normal at all."

"Maybe we ought to go talk to Lin," suggested Asami. "I'm sure she's got a good reason for all of this. We can take my boat."

The three looked to Tenzin for suggestion, but he simply nodded his agreement while ushering his children inside. Korra asked the sentries to take their bags inside and led Asami and Bolin toward the docks. They set out with no small degree of trepidation.

Upon reaching the city proper the trio met with another group of metalbenders demanding to know why and how they had bypassed the required security checkpoints into the city. Angry, Korra said, "I'm the Avatar," and though they had to exchange confused and slightly stupid looks first, the metalbenders stood down.

"Where's Lin Beifong?" Asami asked them.

"At the precinct," said one of the metalbenders. "But you probably won't be able to get in to see her."

"Oh, I'll get in all right," Korra said, and she led Asami and Bolin into the city.

Once on the streets the three exchanged no more words with any metalbender, though any time they came to a street corner—often—they received shifty glances and more than one scathing comment about kids being out unsupervised. To their credit, however, the United Forces soldiers were cordial and friendly, treating them as the young adults they were and affording Korra the respect she was due.

Unsurprisingly, a dozen metalbending officers stood on the stairs leading to the precinct. Korra barreled past them, ignoring their requests for _official clearance_ and _paperwork_. As if in both explanation and apology, Bolin pointed his thumb at her as they walked past and said, "She's the Avatar."

Inside, the precinct was dead. Every desk in the main office was abandoned: no telephones rang, no radios crackled. The only light in the room filtered in through closed and shaded windows, casting an eerie orange hue over everything as though the world outside had been locked in perpetual twilight.

Korra marched toward Beifong's office and rapped on the door once before throwing it open. Lin sat behind her desk, her forehead resting against her right hand while the left held the receiver of her telephone a fair distance away from her ear. Even from the door, the three could hear an angry voice shouting over the line.

Lin glanced up and motioned them into the room. She finished her phone call quickly and slammed the receiver back onto its base.

"I've had just about enough of all this," Lin said brusquely, as much greeting as anyone expected. She pressed her fingers against her temples in frustration. "I've got too much to worry about without Raiko breathing down my neck every second."

"What's going on?" Korra asked, too stupefied by Lin's apparent annoyance to remember her own anger at the policemen.

"The city contractors started building up north this week and my metalbenders were supposed to be there providing assistance, but Raiko decided to bump up security everywhere. I've got a bunch of rookies out there manning checkpoints and watching every corner of the city all day and night. Add on to that the United Earth Nation summit and I don't have a single detective in here for when I get a _real_ call."

"Oh."

Lin regarded Korra curiously, and only now that she looked up did she notice Asami and Bolin were standing behind Korra. She nodded her greetings at Asami while her gaze came to rest, perhaps kindly now, on Bolin.

"How're you doing, kid?" she asked, calmer.

"Better," Bolin replied plainly. The truth was that he was tired of answering that particular question. "What's the _United Earth Nation summit_?"

Lin waved her hand dismissively and explained, "All the newly elected representatives from the old Earth Kingdom are coming to the city to meet with President Raiko. Some ceremonial nonsense he and Wu came up with, I'm sure. Su tells me that they're supposed to discuss where they want to take the Earth Nation or some political mumbo-jumbo like that, figure out what's going to be done with Ba Sing Se. I just want my city to be safe and here they are slapping a big red target on it."

"That means Su is coming to Republic City?" Korra said, a hint of joy in her voice.

"Yeah, and she's bringing the family," Beifong replied. Her spirits did not seem lifted by the thought of family visitation, though she shot a glance at Bolin. "When do you suppose you'll be ready to work?"

Bolin shrugged. Now that he had his bending back, he supposed it didn't matter. There was no reason to sit at home—he didn't have Mako to entertain him or keep him company anymore and he figured that Korra and Asami would have to get back to their respective businesses as well, particularly if world leaders were coming to call. "I guess I'm ready whenever you're ready for me to start."

Beifong raised a brow inquisitively. "You sure?"

Again, Bolin shrugged. "May as well. It'll keep my mind busy, and that was Katara's parting wisdom."

"Smart lady."

"Yeah."

Beifong looked to Korra and Asami passively as if searching for some additional clarification. When nothing came, she continued, "You'll be working on a team with Wing and Wei when they arrive tomorrow. Most of downtown is ruined, and we need to bring down buildings so that the spirit wilds can reopen safely. Raiko has to have his tourist attraction, you know, and it's killing him that we can't charge taxpayers for tours."

Bolin felt slightly crestfallen at this news. He had been expecting to participate in the erection of _new_ structures, not as a demolitionist.

"Look," Beifong said, "I've seen what you can do, I saw it firsthand against Kuvira. Aside from Su and me, you're the best-qualified person to bring down those buildings."

"I can't just push them over," Bolin protested, referencing the time more than a month prior where he, Su, and Lin knocked the top half of a skyscraper onto Kuvira's enormous mech suit.

"No, you can't," Lin agreed. "Since you can't metalbend we've had some people working on making some earth discs for you to lavabend with that'll cut through metal for us. You'll be in charge of precision work while Wing and Wei remove nonessential supports."

"I don't need _special earth discs_," Bolin replied casually.

Beifong shrugged. "Wasn't my call, kid. I told them who we hired and the contractors supplied the parts. You get what you get, and if you use it great. We'll show the three of you how to bring the buildings down safely tomorrow, and then it'll be up to you to get things done on time." Then she looked to Korra and said, "You ought to go visit with Raiko. I'm sure he's got something for you to do during this summit."

The statement was as blunt as Lin would be in asking the lot of them to leave. Gruff as the chief was, she had never been outright rude.

Korra pouted. "I suppose you're right," she said, then turned to leave with Asami on her heels. When Bolin did not follow, Korra turned back around. "Are you coming?"

The earthbender shot a glance back at his companions and shook his head decisively. "I'll meet you back at Air Temple Island."

Hesitantly, Korra and Asami left. Lin cast Bolin a suspicious eye, and once the door clicked shut behind him, Bolin assumed a new and entirely different posture. He planted both palms flat atop Beifong's desk and leaned over just slightly, imposingly, though the expression on his face remained impassive.

"What have you found out?" he asked simply.

Beifong blinked a few times as if confused, as if uncertain what to say. Then she leaned back in her chair with a deep sigh and shrugged, threw up her hands in defeat. "Nothing."

"What do you mean, _nothing_?" Bolin snapped at once. His expression shifted toward frustration. "It's been more than a week; you got a letter from the guy who did it!"

"_Raiko_ got the letter, not me," Beifong said, slightly irate herself. "Have you read _anything_ in the papers?"

Slightly ashamed, Bolin shook his head. "I've been a little disconnected," he cleared his throat, awkward, but then continued with conviction. "But I'm ready to be back in the loop."

Beifong produced a stack of paper clippings from a drawer in her desk and laid them out. Then she picked one out of the pile and said, "This statement was received the day after the explosion but it wasn't published for a few days after that. It says: Consider this an open letter to the citizens of the world. I am a representative of a group known as the Democratic Society of Firebenders, and our mission is simple: We wish to liberate firebenders of all nationalities and subspecialties from the rule of the _lesser_ earthbenders, airbenders, waterbenders, and particularly nonbenders. The Hundred Year War marked the pinnacle of firebending power, and its end dragged our race to the ground. Firelord Izumi continues to suppress us, the establishment of Republic City served to polarize and demonize us. We will stand for it no longer. No longer will we act in service to those who do not appreciate our power…"

Bolin interrupted her, "And you have no idea who sent this letter?"

"It was anonymous," Lin replied, letting the clipping fall back to the desk. "It goes on for a while, talks about how they'll use any means necessary to liberate firebenders from _tyranny_ or some nonsense."

"It reads like a statement of war."

Lin shrugged haplessly. "May as well have been."

Bolin sagged into the chair opposite her and rubbed his face with the heels of his hands. "So let me get this one thing straight then, I want to make sure I understand," he took a deep breath to calm himself. When next he spoke it was with very finely restrained anger. "You, or the President, got this statement, the _Republic City Press_ has been covering the explosion since it happened, _my brother died_, and you've got no idea who sent the letter and no policemen investigating it?"

"Look, you've got to understand that my hands are tied here," Lin protested. "The attack happened on Earth Nation soil, not in Republic City, President Rai—"

Bolin slapped his fist on the table, quieting Lin mid word. "No, you look. You're _Lin Beifong_. You're the chief of police of the greatest city in the world and one of _your_ men died on a job _you_ assigned him. I'll make this as clear as I possibly can for you, because I guess things have gotten so crazy around this place that you can't see straight. If you don't investigate this thing, or get _someone_ on the job, I'm dropping your stupid demolitions contract and heading to Ba Sing Se myself."

Lin blinked dumbly. "What's got into you?"

Bolin's eyebrows raised with disbelief, but he said nothing. He felt too angry to say anything.

"I'll make you a deal," Lin said firmly, her composure regained. "This summit they're having is partway in response to the attack. You give me a couple of days to see what these elected officials want to do, who they're going to send in to investigate, and how they're going to handle it. I'll let you know everything I find out. Once the decision has been made if you still think you're going to march against a bunch of lunatic terrorists singlehandedly—and get yourself killed in the process, I'll add—you can go right ahead."

Bolin narrowed his eyes at her, trying to get a read. Occasionally he found Beifong's tone difficult to read. Sarcasm or not, he decided that he was satisfied with her deal and nodded his approval, then turned to leave. As he closed the door he said gruffly, "I'll see you at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

As soon as he exited, Bolin felt the rims of his eyes growing warm. He blinked hard and set his jaw firmly against the anger. He could not understand how Lin could be so passive. In the past she had done all sorts of illegal, daring, and often rash things to preserve the law and order and safety of her city and those she cared for. Didn't she care? Or was this explosion, this _Society_ more than she could handle?

He spent the long walk back to Air Temple Island fuming with his eyes on the street. One police officer attempted to stop him, but Bolin shot the man such an icy look that the cop stopped dead on the spot and said not another word. He caught a ferry to Air Temple Island without much fuss—the checkpoint line to the island was notably shorter than others—but did not go inside when he arrived. Instead, he marched solemnly to the foot of Avatar Aang's Statue and sat resolutely on the ground in front of Mako's grave, his body inches from the mound.

He stared at it for a long time, examining the grassless earth piled atop Mako's box. The heap was clumped and brown and uneven, and for the briefest of moments Bolin considered bending the earth into alignment. Instead he reached out and grasped a handful of dirt, let it run through his fingers, and began to smooth the terrain manually. He pinched muddy clumps into fine grains, removed large tilled stones to a pile at his side, and patted each inch of the grave until it was firmly packed and neat.

Bolin forgot his anger as he worked, focusing instead on handling his element more intimately than he had in many years. By the time he sat back and admired his finished work his hands were caked with mud in every crease, his fingernails had stained browned to the quick, his face was streaked here and there where he had wiped away tears or sweat or both. He sat cross-legged, draped his filthy hands over his knees, and watched the setting sun move shadows over the soil.

"I'm sorry," he said finally to the now elegant, if simple looking grave. "I'm sorry I didn't bury you. And I'm sorry I've been so angry." He looked at his hands as though ashamed and wiped at his eyes with the back of his wrist. The dirt stung. "You wouldn't like the way I've been acting lately…I just don't know what else to do. I don't have anyone anymore."

Bolin sat silently for a while as if waiting for a response he knew would not come. He sighed and felt the familiar lump rising in his throat. This time he did not resist it. Wrapping his arms around his dirty knees he rested his head against them and breathed deeply before he broke.

Everything Bolin had ever held in spilled out all at once. For the first time in ten days he was alone with no one to coddle him, no one to whom he had to present a front of strength and indomitability. He didn't have to be the little brother to everyone who never had one and never knew how to treat one; he didn't have to be anyone's excuse to remain strong. For the first time since Mako's funeral he could mourn in peace.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," he said when the initial burst of grief passed on, wiping again at his eyes with the back of his filthy hands. He shook his head and got to his feet, resolute. "No, I do know what I'm going to do. Beifong has until the end of this summit, and then I'm going to find whoever did this to you and I'm going to make them regret it." He sniffed and drew a deep breath. "Someone is going to get hurt."

Bolin nodded to himself, lingered at the grave until he was certain his tears were spent, and made his way back to the airbender compound. The place was desolate-only a few acolytes roamed the halls on their way to bed-and so Bolin said nothing to anyone and no one questioned him as to his whereabouts all evening. This was as he wanted it: He was sick of answering everyone's questions.

He stopped first in the bathroom to wash and made a point against looking at himself in the mirror: He knew perfectly well what a wreck he must look. Two basins of water had gone opaque and brown by the time he felt clean enough to move on. He found Pabu in his room curled asleep at the foot of the bed, but when Bolin entered the fire ferret chittered and raised his head, and Bolin patted him.

"It's been a long night, buddy," said the earthbender as he disrobed. "It's going to be longer tomorrow."

Pabu yawned and laid his head back down, but Bolin picked the fire ferret up and held it aloft. Pabu gave a whine of protest.

"Are you ready to go back home?" Bolin asked Pabu, and the fire ferret tilted his head confusedly. Bolin said, "It's been a long time since we were at the apartment, and I think I'm ready. I think I need some space. I'm sick of being babied to death."

Pabu licked absently at Bolin's fingers, as if he didn't care one way or the other where they stayed, and Bolin placed him back down on the bed.

"Yeah..." Bolin said with a sigh. He lay down atop the covers and closed his eyes to a fitful, restless sleep. The sunrise next morning came too fast for his liking, and it felt to him that he hadn't slept at all. Still, he rose and dressed in his gray jacket and breeches, tossed his dirty browns into a basket near the door, and went to the kitchen where Pema presently sat eating her own breakfast.

"You're up early," she said smartly.

"Starting work today," Bolin explained as he sat across from her. Within minutes an acolyte had a heaping plate of food before him. He tucked in greedily, suddenly keenly aware that he'd skipped more than one meal yesterday.

"Korra and Asami missed you last night, they wanted you to go to dinner with them," Pema said after a while, when her own meal was finished and cleared away. "They went to that noodle place you like so much."

Bolin shrugged and pushed his unfinished meal away with a glance toward the clock. "You know I appreciate you letting me stay here," he said carefully, and Pema watched him with such absolute attention that he felt self-conscious, "but I think I'm ready to go home. I'm kind of glad I missed dinner with Korra and Asami. They've been-smothering me a little..."

Pema smiled. "I wondered when you'd get tired of it," she said. "I'll pass on the news when everyone wakes up, and I'll have the acolytes take your things back to your apartment."

Bolin nodded and stood, ran his fingers through his hair. "I really do appreciate it, you know. I'm not just saying that to be nice."

"Oh, we know. Just promise you won't be a stranger, okay?"

Bolin returned Pema's smile genuinely. "Of course not," he said. "We've got a lot of work to do to clean up after Kuvira, and you know as well as I do that I don't cook half as well as the acolytes."

They shared a laugh, and Bolin left feeling heartened.

He arrived at the precinct at fifteen minutes till eight and sat ignored in the empty lobby amongst the day's first shift officers. Beifong arrived at five till eight, and Wing and Wei followed her ten minutes later, bleary eyed but seemingly ready to work.

The twins greeted Bolin with smiles and hearty handshakes, though Wing yawned in the middle of his "Hello." To their credit, neither twin mentioned a thing about Mako, and neither asked any variant of "How are you?" Bolin wondered if Su had coached them on post-death etiquette.

Beifong hustled the three into a police car and started the drive downtown. "I won't be around after I leave you three today," she explained gruffly. "I'll be at the Earth Summit with Suyin trying to figure things out. You'll have a police radio on site with you at all times in case you need something."

On site, Bolin could see several other groups of people already inside buildings, bending away metal sheeting and using plasma cutters on supports. Beifong handed each of them a modestly sized rucksack, explaining that in it were their radios and supplies they might need. She escorted them to the highest level of their first building and carefully explained the method by which they would take them down: dismantle the inner structures, leave the walls as support, and knock down one floor at a time. Descend and repeat until the building was finished, then move on.

She left, and the boys got to work without words. Bolin examined the contents of his rucksack and found two discs of quartzite rock: one flat and thin and perfectly circular, the other with thick serrations around its outside. Someone had taken pride in their work, as the discs had been polished and buffed until they shined. With a shrug, Bolin tried each disc, spinning it round between his outstretched palms until it glowed red hot and lost its rocky consistency. He found the smooth stone to have better balance, and used it all morning to cut through all manner of material.

By lunch, the three had taken down five stories of the seven-story building, and they sat amongst the ruins sharing what food Suyin had provided for Wing and Wei. Bolin hadn't even considered bringing anything.

"You know, Opal is pretty excited to see you," Wei said through a mouthful of steam bun.

Bolin nodded. Too many days with the airbenders had his table manners at their best. He swallowed hard before saying, "What is she doing?"

"She's at the summit with mom," Wing explained.

Wei continued, "She wants Opal to learn about politics, but Opal isn't very interested."

"Opal doesn't seem like a political person," Bolin said.

"She's not," the twins said as one, and then they exchanged a look between them and laughed.

Bolin had expected work to be tiring and monotonous, but the time he spent with the twins had him in exceptionally high spirits. On their first day they brought down two buildings while gently ribbing each other and making small talk about pro-bending. More than once the twins poked fun at Bolin's inability to metalbend, but Bolin quieted them with a good natured toss of his lava disc that came a bit too close for them to feel comfortable. They parted ways that night with more handshakes, and Bolin stopped for take out on the way home.

Even the apartment couldn't stifle his decent mood. Pabu waited atop the pile of his things the acolytes had brought from the island, and they ate seaweed noodles together on the couch that he and Mako had once shared, bathed in the bathroom where Mako's towel still hung disused on the rack, and slid into bed without a glance at Mako's unoccupied twin.

The second day went much as the first, except that Bolin began on a full night's sleep and managed to salvage enough leftovers from his takeout that he didn't need to borrow lunch. Wing and Wei informed him that Opal wanted to see him that evening, and through the rest of the day Bolin's stomach gave an occasional nervous lurch whenever he thought of seeing her. It had been a long time, after all, and he wasn't sure he was ready for romantics.

Still, that evening Opal arrived at the apartment after dark carrying a parcel full of sweets she'd taken from the summit and greeted Bolin with an infectious smile and a kiss on the cheek that made his whole face feel warm. They sat on the couch picking at the sweets for a while in awkward silence.

"So how was the summit?" Bolin asked after a while.

Opal shrugged. "Boring. Full of old people and politics. How are you?"

Bolin frowned. "Tired of hearing that question."

"Oh, sorry."

"No, no," he backtracked immediately. "That's not what I meant. I don't know, I guess I just want things to be normal."

Opal put her hand atop his and patted it comfortingly. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you when you needed me."

Bolin wanted to say it was okay, because Korra and Asami had supplied more than enough comfort for him, but he decided that such a statement could only end badly. Instead he shrugged the comment away and contemplated briefly on how to turn the conversation away from recent events.

Opal made the decision for him. Before he could open his mouth to speak she had leaned in toward him for a kiss that in any other situation might have been completely normal, even passionate. But no sooner had her lips connected with his than he felt his stomach turn to water, and he recoiled as if on instinct. She looked immediately hurt, and he held his hands up in defense.

"I—I'm sorry," he stammered as his face went pink. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Do I need to warn you next time?" Opal grinned mischievously despite her initial alarm and leaned in for another try.

Bolin took her by the shoulders and held her at a respectful distance. "Opal, no." He said forcefully, then stood and backed away from the sofa. He wanted to run. He recognized the feeling in his gut as fear, but could not understand why it was there. It only intensified as the look on Opal's face grew more extreme. "I can't do this right now," Bolin continued, frantically trying to explain away his anxiety. "I'm sorry. This is my fault, I'm just not ready."

"We haven't seen each other in almost a month," Opal protested, yet her expression softened slightly. "I thought you would—"

Bolin shook his head. "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you came over. I just can't…" he shook his head again.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid," Bolin said before he could think, and then added in afterthought, "of being close to people right now."

"Oh," Opal said, and she stood. "I guess I'll leave, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

On one hand, Bolin wanted to protest. He felt sick. All he had wanted for the last weeks was to see Opal, but now that she was here he couldn't overcome this strange nervousness. He remained quiet instead and watched as Opal made her way to the door.

"You call me when you aren't afraid anymore, okay?" she said softly. "Take the time you need, and if you want to talk, we can. I'll let you take the wheel on this."

Bolin nodded and held his breath until Opal left, then slumped onto the sofa with tears in his eyes. He may have messed things up, but at least he hadn't let her see him cry.


	10. Control

Korra spent the first day of the Earth Nation summit sitting between Suyin and Lin Beifong bored half out of her mind. The orders of business in politics became monotonous early on, beginning with the appointment of a delegation leader whose duty would be to communicate the Earth Nation's decisions to the world as a representative of the whole. Su was nominated and elected almost unanimously—she was the only dissenting vote—and she agreed to serve only until Prince Wu could assume the position. She argued it would only be fair, since the kingdom had at one point been his own and she believed that the royal family should still serve the people even in democracy. No one disagreed.

Next order was for a statement from the Avatar, which Korra gave reluctantly and without preparation, wishing for the good faith and effort of all those elected to the council to create a better Earth Nation for its citizens. The remarks were awkward for Korra's liking, and she felt slightly stupid standing before a group of people easily twice her age. She kept things short, however, and afterward the proceedings moved forward without fuss.

Things only grew interesting once talk turned to the disaster in Ba Sing Se. Everyone in attendance expected the topic to be discussed in depth, but Suyin argued that its handling should be the first official decision made by the Earth Nation Council, as that was the most pressing matter at hand. Most agreed that the issue was both dire and in need of consequence, but none could agree on how to conduct an investigation or what the punishment should be, assuming they ever unmasked the perpetrator.

"We don't even know what happened," argued Xiu Rei Huan of the Gaoling provice. "All we've got is hearsay and biased reporting from the press. The only survivor in the upper ring was Wu, and…Well…"

The representative from Omashu, a younger man named Qin, grew angry at this. "We know exactly what happened," he said hotly. "Some lunatic firebender set an explosion in the ruins of the royal palace and blew half the city to bits. That's a measure of war!"

"Firelord Izumi issued her statement on the matter," Suyin mediated coolly. "She told us that the perpetrators have no affiliation with the Fire Nation and should be considered radicals. She doesn't approve of the attack any more than we do."

"So how do we go about _finding_ these people if we don't know who they are and we don't know where they're at?" asked Xiu.

Korra interrupted thoughtfully, "Well, the newspapers printed that letter from the—" she searched for the name of the organization and looked to Lin when her thoughts came up short.

"Democratic Society of Firebenders," Lin prompted, deadpan.

"Yeah, them," Korra affirmed at once, "I guess you all read it, too. It said they wanted to liberate firebenders who were in service to others."

"Avatar Korra," said Qin gruffly, "what's your point here? We all read the letter, we know exactly what it said."

Korra bristled uncomfortably. "If you'd let me finish…" she heaved a sigh at the upstart representative and shifted in her seat, assuming a more aggressive posture. People responded to her when she looked confident. "We've got to lure these guys out of hiding. If there's a way that we can get a big group of firebenders together and make it _look_ like they're working under the Earth Nation we can…"

"Absolutely not," said a third representative, Na Zhang. She was a stately woman nearing sixty who reminded Korra very much of the Firelord. "Between Kuvira's camps and the Ba Sing Se incident we've lost more than enough Earth Nation lives," she said forcefully, "I don't think any of us would invite another attack on our soil."

"We could send in Republic City police forces," Korra suggested and looked to Lin for support.

Lin shook her head resolutely. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Bolin: The President ordered me to keep my guys in the city. This isn't our fight. The attack wasn't in Republic City's territory. We'll offer our full support where we can, but we can't send our men into the line of fire."

"You sent Mako into the line of fire," Korra mumbled under her breath, and this time it was Lin who bristled. Korra turned her attention back to Zhang and spoke before Lin could argue, "So what do you suggest we do then?"

"It could be that this was a one-time attack," said Zhang contemplatively. "We've not seen aggression on this large of a scale before."

"There've been kidnappings and reports of armed confrontation in smaller regions, though," said Suyin. "Lately we haven't been able to investigate them thoroughly. It could be that these smaller incidents are connected."

"It's all speculation!" roared Qin.

Korra sighed. This argument, she could see, was going nowhere. Indeed she sat for another hour and a half before lunch break, wordlessly listening to the back-and-forth arguments from the Earth Nation delegates, half of who wished to retaliate against the Firebending Society and half of who wanted to wait for further aggression to strike. To her credit, Suyin remained the neutral mediator, prodding her colleagues to elaborate on arguments and offer sound reasoning for their opinions, but few did, and the summit dismissed for lunch with tensions high.

The whole building felt cold. Lin hadn't said a word to Korra since the Avatar's underhanded jab at her during the meeting, and the chief still looked irate. Korra wondered more than once as they were served their lunch whether she had gone too far with her statement.

The afternoon did not improve anyone's mood.

The second day of the summit brought Opal, who came as welcome relief. At least with her around, Korra would have someone of a similar age and mindset to talk to. They sat apart from Lin and Su, as Lin had yet to break her silent treatment, and whispered to each other about things almost entirely unrelated to the current proceedings.

Small talk about life in general turned to specific talk about Mako's funeral, which Korra described in full detail. When Korra explained Bolin's lost and subsequently regained bending Opal's eyes began to glisten. Korra stopped and patted her on the hand. At afternoon break Opal made clear that she would be going to visit Bolin at his apartment that evening, and informed her mother that she would be out late. Suyin happily approved.

Next day matters intensified. President Raiko interrupted the morning session by barging into the room and demanding Korra and Lin see him immediately. Apparently Wu had waked and was asking to see them personally. The summit continued on, dealing with less important matters like taxation and borderlines under Suyin's leadership, while Korra, Lin, and Opal ventured to the hospital.

When the ladies entered, Wu greeted them with his traditional gusto: "Ladies," he drew out the word a bit too long, "so good to see you!" He seemed in high enough spirits and Korra noted with interest that he seemed, except for an exceptionally large bruise covering the right side of his face, to be no worse for the wear.

"You don't look _hurt_," Lin said skeptically. "What do you want?"

Wu pouted slightly. "I wanted to talk to the _Avatar_ about what happened…" he said formally, but trailed off as if slightly confused.

"You've been unconscious for a while," Korra explained. "It's been almost two weeks."

Wu's confusion intensified. "Where's Mako?"

Lin, Opal, and Korra exchanged looks full of meaning, but Opal was the one to speak out. "Mako—didn't make it," she said. "There was a funeral for him last week. I'm sorry."

"What?" Wu cried, indignant. "That can't be right."

"What do you mean _that can't be right_," Lin rebutted angrily. "The body's already buried. I looked at it."

Wu pouted again, "But Mako," his voice turned suddenly dreamy as he thought, "the best bodyguard a guy could ask for…He protected me! I saw him!"

"Yeah, he protected you all right," said Lin. "Right into the ground."

Now Wu sat up, his gaze on Korra. "No, no, don't listen to her! You've got to believe this; we've got to help him out! I got hit in the head, right? Some flying boulder or plaster from the building, heck I don't know what it was because the fireball was so bright I couldn't see anything. But Mako…" his voice seemed to take on the same dreamy tone anytime he said Mako's name. "He took the blast for me, firebent the explosion away from me! I don't know what it was he did exactly but he protected me!"

Korra offered no reply when Wu paused, but crossed her arms over her chest instead. Thus far his story contained no new information at all and seemed entirely ordinary. She wasn't impressed.

"I don't remember a lot because I fell down," Wu replied, almost frantic, his flippant attitude dropped entirely. "Like I said, I got hit in the face," he pointed at the bruise for emphasis. "But I saw them. Mako passed out and someone grabbed him! Before I fainted I saw them take him away! I tried to yell 'Mako down!' but nobody around me was moving either!"

Korra looked to Lin skeptically, and Lin returned the expression. This piece of information _was _new.

"How can we be sure you know what you're talking about?" Lin pressed urgently. "You just said you got smacked in the head."

"I know what I saw," Wu said gravely. "And I saw Mako being taken away. That guy is the best friend I've ever had—heck he's the _only_ friend I've ever had—and I know what I saw!"

Again, Korra looked to Lin, reading her expression for any doubt. What Korra saw in Lin's eyes was professionally masked surprise. This alarmed the Avatar: It was not often that Lin Beifong was caught off guard by anything. But this news, if indeed it was true, brought new urgency to an already dire situation.

"Do you have any proof that what you think happened is what really happened?" asked Opal gently while Korra and Beifong stared at each other. "Is there anyone else who can confirm?"

Wu shook his head, calmer now. "I don't know."

Seemingly settled, Lin rounded back on Wu and assumed a defensive posture. "We'll look into what we can," she said officially, "but you'll be needed at the Earth Summit as soon as you're ready."

"What Earth Summit?"

"The elections went on as planned," Korra explained, placing a hand on Lin's shoulder to placate her. She felt Lin relax a bit beneath her touch. "All the elected officials are here in Republic City for a meeting to determine what they're going to do with the Earth Nation. They want you to be their voice to the people."

Wu's expression brightened significantly. There was little he seemed to enjoy more than press attention. "All right!"

"I'll let them know at the summit that you're awake and talking. We'll see if the hospital will discharge you to begin your duties tomorrow," said Lin, and she escorted Korra and Opal from the room before Wu could say another word.

The three returned to the conference after lunch and did not have a chance to speak with Su until much later in the evening. When the summit recessed for the night, Opal, Lin, Su, and Korra gathered at the precinct to discuss Wu's message privately. All parties agreed that some investigation should take place as soon as possible, and Su mentioned briefly the possibility of exhuming the corpse they had buried to double check that they had identified the body correctly. Without witnesses they had no other way to be certain. The subject caused Lin to look slightly perturbed.

"I don't want to dig it up. I examined that thing as much as I could stomach," said the chief, "but it was downright disgusting."

"Bolin verified it was Mako," Korra agreed. "Didn't he?" As far as she was aware the case was open and shut.

Lin shook her head, much to Korra's surprise. "He went in the room, took one look at the body and nearly passed out. There wasn't a lot of examination on his end. Never seen him so pale in my life."

Until this point Opal had remained quiet and pensive. When she spoke she did so softly, always softly, but with conviction in her voice that no one could argue. "We need to tell him," she said. "We need to tell Bolin that there's a chance—"

"No!" Lin snapped. "No way. We're not telling him anything until I've got hard evidence to prove it."

Korra slumped into one of the chairs and rested her head against her hand. "I hate to say it, Opal, but I agree with Lin. I don't want to sound mean, but you haven't been around here lately, you haven't seen how this is affecting him."

"You told me he lost his bending," Opal protested. "But it came back! And of course he was upset but—"

"Kid's darn near lost his mind," Lin said. "Doesn't know down from up right now. This? Knowing there's a chance Mako is alive? He can't know until we're absolutely certain it's true."

"But that's cruel!" Opal cried.

Korra shook her head. "No, it's not. What would be cruel would be to give him hope after all he's been through. He's just on the upswing now, he's getting better, he moved back home, has gone to work. If we tell him there's a chance Mako is alive and then it turns out that chance was a lie…" Again she shook her head. Korra didn't dare entertain the possibility. Bolin was as much a brother to her as anyone had ever been. Seeing him knocked back down as soon as he got to his feet was more than she could bear.

Opal looked to her mother, but Su just shrugged. "Opal, I know this is hard," said Suyin, "but Lin and Korra know best right now. They're right: We haven't been here. You've only seen Bolin once, just last night, and you said that he—"

"He was just scared!" Opal cried. Tears rimmed her eyes again.

Korra looked between Su and Opal, suddenly quite alert. She remembered clearly Bolin's explosive and wholly unexpected rage at the South Pole, the moment in which his bending came back more powerful than she'd ever seen it before. Her stomach sank and she feared the worst. Had he lashed out at Opal?

"What happened?" Korra asked tenderly.

By now Opal had lost her restraint and was sobbing openly. "He was just afraid!" she cried, her head in her hands. "I tried to…And he said no and he sounded kind of angry…But nothing _happened_. He's just afraid to lose someone else!"

Su wrapped Opal in a tight hug and rubbed her back. "Now listen, Opal," she cooed, "you're exactly right. He _was_ scared, and he probably still is. Wing and Wei said the exact same thing when they checked in with me over lunch today. Bolin isn't stable right now, he's keeping his distance and that's perfectly healthy. Getting him worked up all over again isn't going to help him. We've got to keep this quiet for now."

"I don't know what to do!" Opal continued. "I just want to make him feel better!"

Su looked between Korra and Lin. Korra shrugged her reply and Su stroked Opal's hair, then said, "You do what you can for him when he needs you, okay? You've always been good at helping people, and I know you can handle this. Until we say so, though, you can't tell him what happened."

"It's not fair!" Opal wailed.

"None of this is fair, sweetheart," Su comforted, "you're right. Now look at me—that's good—and promise me that no matter what happens you won't mention anything to Bolin. I know you love him and I know it's hard, but you have to keep quiet."

Opal nodded and pressed her face immediately back into her mother's shoulder.

"Excuse us," Su said to Korra and Lin. "We need to go calm down a little. You two and I can discuss this issue more later. We'll see you tomorrow at the summit, and hopefully we can get something done about Ba Sing Se and the investigation."

When Su was gone Lin practically collapsed into her chair and groaned. "We'd _better_ get something done tomorrow," she said, "because if we don't I'm going to have a very angry lavabender on my hands and that's not something I'm equipped to deal with."

Again, Korra remembered the South Pole, and she heartily agreed.

* * *

The final day of the Earth Summit was by far the most productive. Though clad in unflattering hospital garb, Wu sat in a seat of honor between Avatar Korra and President Raiko. True to himself, the former monarch managed to fast-talk the delegates enough to come to several decisions even before lunch: He would be happy to act as reporter for the delegation as long as he had assistance and support from the others; Ba Sing Se would hire two hundred workers to reconstruct the broken upper ring; a group of Earth Nation citizens would be trained to investigate the explosion; and once their training had finished and the investigation was underway that group would train others to prevent acts of terrorism and respond if something happened again.

The afternoon session saw a second meeting scheduled six months hence, and delegates were sent to work on their own terms to develop tax and law policies for their individual provinces. These policies would be submitted for review by a panel to make certain that all was fair and balanced.

Nothing was said of Mako.

Korra left that night with mixed feelings. Wu had impressed her even without meaning to: It seemed that in the last months he had grown as a human being. Even if she still couldn't stand the thought of him, she felt proud that he had managed to accomplish something amongst the group of diverse delegates. All the same, she regretted that she hadn't had a chance to speak with someone about Wu's report. The idea that Mako could be alive and out in the world somewhere terrified her, especially when she considered whose hands he might have fallen into.

Relief came shortly after dinner, when Lin called to Air Temple Island to report to Korra that she and Su were meeting at the precinct to discuss the matter, which Lin referred to simply as "the news."

With no explanation to anyone (and much protest from Asami, who had grown both bored and slightly worried) Korra left for the police station. When she arrived, Su and Lin were already engaged in conversation that seemed cordial enough.

"We'll have to let Tenzin know our intent," Lin said, as if in the middle of explanation. She waved Korra into a second seat they had placed in front of Lin's desk. "He'll never allow us to disturb the land under his father's monument unless we've got extremely good reason."

"I'd say this is reason enough," Su agreed.

Lin and Su did most of the talking and Korra listened raptly. The two schemed for a long time, brainstorming a variety of excuses to keep the exhumation out of the news and away from Bolin. Then, all at once, Lin turned to Korra.

"Will you discuss this with Tenzin?" she asked. "I'd like to know what he thinks about the matter before we move forward with any plans."

Korra nodded. "I'll let you know first thing tomorrow."

On the way through the lobby, Korra passed by a detective who moved with particular urgency. Confused, she continued on and stopped short upon entering the waiting area.

"Bolin?"

He was standing with his hands shoved in his pockets, apparently fresh from work. Sweaty, dirt-stained, and with a look of general exhaustion, he greeted her with a subdued, "Hey. What's going on?"

"Nothing. We just got done with the summit," Korra lied. She recalled Lin saying something about Bolin's visit but hadn't expected to run into him firsthand, and definitely not so soon.

"Good," Bolin said darkly. "That's what I wanted to talk to Lin about."

"Well, she's back there," Korra said, and pointed with her thumb toward Lin's office. "I've got to get back to Air Temple Island. Asami's going to kill me if I don't spend some time with her."

"Have fun."

Nervously, Korra exited and watched through the doors as Bolin made his way toward the back of the office.

* * *

"Chief, Nuktuk is here to see you," said the detective happily, poking his head into the office.

Lin exchanged a dark look with Su, but Su nodded. "Send him in," said Lin, but Bolin was already halfway through the door when she finished her statement, much to the surprise of the detective.

"Nuktuk, can I have your auto—"

Bolin slammed the office door in the detective's face, and then he marched up to the desk without so much as a look to Su. He stared at Lin with a look so calm as to be unnerving. "Well," he said flatly, "what've you got?"

Lin regarded him carefully and shot a surreptitious glance to Su, who presently scrutinized Bolin with the same curious expression. The door slamming directly contradicted the cool front he had suddenly taken on.

"I told you I'd let you know when all the decisions were made," Lin replied.

"The radio coverage of the summit finished over two hours ago, and I've been sitting around waiting. I'm tired of waiting. I need a decision," he said, his frustration apparent.

"Hello, Bolin," Su said lightly, but the look he shot her quieted her immediately. It was a look Lin had never seen before, intense and reckless.

"Just sit down and I'll tell you everything we talked about all week," Lin said in the same deadpan tone as always, as if Bolin's anger was commonplace. Truly she was trying to diffuse the situation.

Bolin did not sit.

"Things are going to go slower than you want," Lin explained anyway, reclining slightly in her chair. Perhaps if she pressed on things would deescalate. "The Earth Nation is going to take full responsibility for the investigation by hiring citizens to—"

"So you've got nothing," interrupted Bolin hotly. "Three days of talking and you've got absolutely nothing."

"They're going to train people to investigate," Lin protested.

"And how long is that going to take?" Bolin's voice flared resentfully. "It's already been two weeks, we've got absolutely nothing. No clues, nobody looking at the site, nobody exploring options. We had a deal! You agreed!"

Lin looked to Su pleadingly, hoping she might intervene before things got out of hand, and Su took charge on cue. Wordlessly, she walked around the desk and wrapped her arms around Bolin's broad shoulders. It would be expected for him to relax at the comfortable touch, but instead a tension wound up in Bolin's body. His muscles locked tight like he was preparing to strike out.

"Don't touch me," he growled at Su, but made no move to pull away.

Bolin looked as though he was radiating heat. His whole body trembled.

"You need to calm down," said Su quietly, in a motherly tone that Lin had never heard. "Yelling isn't going to solve anything."

Bolin breathed very deep, his fists clenched at his sides. "I'm going to tell you one time… _Let. Me. Go_." He emphasized every word.

"We understand you're upset," Su cooed. She tried to usher him toward a chair. "Just relax. Nobody is going to hurt—"

All at once Bolin wrenched himself away from her, rounding angrily, and Su stumbled and fell. For the briefest moment a look of shame flashed across Bolin's face, but anger replaced it just as fast and the earthbender snapped completely. "What do _you_ know? What do you _care_?"

Su looked dumbfounded, rooted to the spot on the ground where she had fallen. "What is wrong with you?" she cried, half terrified but genuinely concerned.

Bolin ignored her and turned back on Lin. He pointed his finger at her forcefully while his free hand flexed in and out of a tightly coiled fist. All his carefully controlled composure seemed to have gone. "And _you_!" He stopped, seemingly too angry to think of an appropriate insult. "You want me to _wait? _What do I have to wait for, Lin? What do I have at all? _Korra?_ No, she's too busy with Asami to care about helping me. Asami's too busy with Korra and her company! Tenzin's too busy doing airbender stuff! And you're too busy with this stupid summit! I helped you! I've put my life on the line for _all of you_, and now that I need you you've done nothing but kick me aside and hang me out to dry!"

"You know that's not true," Su said, getting cautiously to her feet.

"Shut up!" Bolin roared at her. "You aren't a part of this!"

If truth was told, Lin had said nothing because she honestly didn't know what to say. She knew Bolin would be visiting her and had been thinking all day of how this encounter might play out, but nowhere in her wildest imagination did she believe the generally tender-hearted earthbender was capable of this kind of anger. She did not know how to calm him, and the longer he spoke the more uncomfortable she became, until she noted with shock that the floor beneath her feet had grown quite warm: The whole room had grown quite warm. She watched him flexing his fists, stretching each finger individually, flexing again, stretching again. Both hands were working furiously at Bolin's side.

He had lost control.

"Sit down!" Lin shouted with urgency as she stood, and though she was at the very least the same height as Bolin the sheer intensity of her voice made her huge. "You sit down right now!"

Su seemed to have noticed the mounting danger. Her eyes were locked on the floor. A small area near Lin's desk had sunk downward and the stone seemed to be softening.

"Why?" Bolin shouted, just as intensely. "You can't arrest me for yelling at you!"

"No, but I _will_ arrest you for melting my precinct!"

Bolin's eyes went suddenly wide, he balked at her. "What?"

"Look at yourself!" Lin shouted in condemnation, unable to hide her indignation. "Look at what you're doing! You hit my sister! You made Opal cry! And now you're so far gone you've lost control! I don't care how upset you are; this is disgraceful! You should be ashamed to call yourself an earthbender!"

All the fire went out at once, and Bolin's hands went slack. He shot a sheepish glance around the room, avoiding meeting Su's gaze at all costs, and seemed to realize at once that the warmth he had felt was not internal but instead came from the gradual heating of the earth around him. He looked back at Lin, terrified, and took a step back.

"I don't know..." Bolin stammered, shaking his head madly. He raised his hands to cover his nose and mouth. He continued backing toward the door. "I don't understand..."

Lin exchanged another look with Su. Again, she moved to help him into a chair but he recoiled and stumbled before she ever got close to him.

"You need to sit down," Su said. "You need to calm down."

"I'm so sorry," Bolin said. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's happening. I just…"

Su inched just close enough to grasp his hands, but again he pulled away, so distressed he could scarcely form a coherent word. This time he bolted.

Lin looked to Su as soon as Bolin cleared the door. "I'm putting out an APB. We can't him run around the city in this state. Go call Opal, warn her what happened here and tell her to be on the watch, then call Asami and tell her the same. I'll call Air Temple Island and inform Tenzin and Korra." She blew a deep sigh and looked at her now cooling office. "I hate to think what he might do right now."


	11. Induction

It took less than twenty-four hours for Yaozhu to make good on his promise to help Mako send his letter. It had happened quite suddenly during their leisure time. The lot of them had been in the yard, Yaozhu explaining the fundamentals of combustion bending to them, when the great red bird flew overhead. Without a word, Mako had run after it, Yaozhu close on his heels, and with a _pop_ the bird had suddenly dropped like a stone.

"I hope you didn't kill it," Mako had said.

They had the note attached and the bird revived within ten minutes, and Mako had watched it fly off toward Republic City. He only hoped it would maintain its course and reach Beifong in time.

He was thankful it had happened so fast when, the very next morning, he was separated from his squad. They were off to the training field, to which Yaozhu departed with a jubilant wave, and he was escorted back to the dilapidated old building in which he'd suffered the conditioning chamber. In a large room, deep within, an officer instructed him to sit at the end of a bench that was otherwise completely occupied by men who appeared to be much older and much more receptive than he was, and this sent a nervous shiver through him.

The room went dark and Mako felt every muscle in his body tense. This was how the conditioning had started. This was how the onslaught of the elements had happened, how he had been made to see things that were not there…

But the wall before him lightened with a projection, not of still-framed firebenders, but a projection that _moved_. There was a countdown, and once it had ended an old, stern-faced man appeared and began to speak.

"Welcome, all of you, to captain's training," said the man. The audio was fuzzy and riddled with crackles and distortion. "It is your honor to serve. You have been individually selected by your officers and your units to lead in the quest to rebuild the Fire Nation as it once was. This series will develop your skills in command and direction, in tactics and intelligence, so that you, too, can lead your brothers and sisters in fire to liberation."

Mako sighed. It was another propaganda film. Once the introduction had concluded, rather than promoting firebenders as a whole, it maintained an instructional tone. It advised them on the hierarchy, the mission, and the methodology employed by the Democratic Society of Firebenders, and Mako paid this particular attention. This was _intelligence_, he realized, information that could be extremely useful if only he could get it back to Beifong.

He decided to play along.

The mover concluded after a time and the room brightened gradually. As the lights came up more men entered the room. Mako didn't recognize any of them except for one: Bingwei. But he knew by their dress that all of them were legitimate officers, those who had completed this training and been fully assimilated into the society, and there was one officer for each trainee.

Bingwei came to a halt in front of him and stared down with a look of appraisal. Mako did not meet his eyes.

"With me, recruit," Bingwei said curtly. "We're to lunch."

Mako didn't need to be told twice. He rose at once and followed Bingwei's lead out of the dilapidated building and into the yard. The two exchanged no words, which Mako found slightly strange, but more than that he wondered who exactly was working with the other men in his squad if their captain was here.

The mess hall was quiet. A few uniformed men lounged around tables far away from the entrance, and the metal trestle tables where he had taken his lunch on prior days sat completely empty. Mako expected to be seated here, but Bingwei continued to lead him through the hall, past the seated men, and into a small, private chamber with a round table and comfortable chairs.

"Be seated at your leisure," Bingwei said, and his voice had taken a tone unfamiliar to Mako. He didn't sound angry. Stern, perhaps, but not hostile.

Mako sat in the nearest chair and folded his hands on the table. He watched as Bingwei took a seat opposite. Then the two simply looked at each other in a silence that Mako might have called _strained_. It certainly was not awkward, there was no shame or embarrassment here, but there existed a tension that he could feel in every fiber of his being.

"Well, daydreamer," Bingwei said at last, a smug smirk finding its way to his face, "it seems we have to work together."

Though he had wanted to remain straight-faced, Mako felt his eyebrow instinctively raise in a look of skepticism and disbelief. It was the same automatic reaction he'd always had when Bolin said or did something stupid, and it came to him without a single thought. He said nothing.

"At least you've learned to keep your mouth shut, if nothing else. At any rate, if it hasn't become obvious to you at this point you've been chosen to become captain for the weak and pathetic men you know as your roommates. Well, not anymore. You'll be housed in the officer's dormitory beginning tonight. Your things are being moved as we speak. You'll be bunking with me."

At this, Mako could not help but utter a confused, "What?"

"It's not to my liking either, sharing a space with a rat like you. But I'm under orders from His Excellency, and I will not defy him."

"But _you're_ the captain."

"I'll be promoted to commander."

All at once, two women entered the room with plates—real plates—filled with food the likes of which Mako had never seen. Was this Fire Nation fare? He'd only ever indulged in what little Republic City had to offer, and that was far from authentic, as he understood. What sat on his plate now was slightly alarming and entirely foreign: Three red-flecked dumplings, a mound of what looked like cabbage, and an enormous…Animal. To the side came a bowl of the same jasmine rice he'd grown accustomed to and a cup filled with a cloudy, milky beverage.

At least he'd eat the rice.

Bingwei tucked into his meal immediately but politely. He started with the dumplings, and Mako followed suit, nibbling tentatively at a corner and then examining its interior. The thing seemed safe enough, and Mako ate the rest in one.

The spice hit him immediately. His whole face felt on fire; everything between his mouth and his stomach burned. His eyes were suddenly watery.

"Not used to this kind of food, are you, daydreamer?" Bingwei smirked from across the table.

Ignoring him, Mako grabbed for his cup and drained half of it before he'd even tasted the liquid. He slammed the it back onto the table with a heaving breath, and stared at the food on his plate once more. Food wasn't supposed to hurt. Food was supposed to taste good.

"That was komodo dragon sausage inside. They're quite good once you've acquired a taste for them."

Mako watched dumbfounded as Bingwei ate a whole dumpling in one bite. He seemed to be enjoying it and sipped delicately at his drink.

"You can speak, you know," Bingwei said after he'd swallowed. "You're going to have to speak at some point."

All that Mako could utter was, "What_ is_ this stuff?"

With a great sigh of exasperation, Bingwei brandished his chopsticks and began pointing to the items on his plate. "I already told you the dumplings. This," he pointed at the vegetable, "is cabbage, plain as day. This," he pointed at the strange, lumpy, slightly slimy animal, "is a smoked sea slug. They're quite the delicacy around here. You know our rice already. You're drinking coconut water."

Again, the eyebrow. "And I'm supposed to eat all this."

"You can starve, daydreamer. I wouldn't mind."

It was out of spite that Mako ate. He alternated between the remaining two dumplings and the rice, which he found to neutralize the heat enough to make it palatable, then alternated between the slug and the cabbage. Everything but the slug sat comfortably in his stomach, once the burning had gone away, but its meat tasted of fish and seawater and artificial heat, and its rubbery, slimy texture made for difficult chewing. He struggled to finish it.

In the end, Mako's plate was clear, his bowl of rice empty, and his cup of coconut water drained and refilled three times, and for the first time since arriving on this strange island he felt content, even if his insides were on fire. It never occurred to him while he had been stuffing himself that training might follow, but when he looked up to see Bingwei's sadistic stare, his heart sank.

"Don't tell me you're going to make me run," Mako said. "Or squat, or whatever else."

"No," Bingwei said. "Not today. Today is your induction. Tomorrow we will train."

"What does that even mean? Induction?"

Bingwei reclined in his chair, his hands folded on the table. "You're a part of the chain of command now. You'll be responsible for the well-being of your squad and the success of the missions you are tasked with, here and abroad. It's an enormous responsibility and a great honor. It also comes with many benefits."

"Oh?" Mako said sardonically. "Benefits like what?"

"Food and drink, for a start. You'll have as much as you'd like and at your leisure. In the evenings you'll have your choice of girls and the time to use them. You'll have the command and respect of your squad. You'll have the honor of serving His Excellence and rebuilding your nation."

Mako reclined in his chair, a mirror of Bingwei, and narrowed his eyes. It wasn't the idea of rewards that interested him, but what the rewards were and how they were presented. Just yesterday the order had seemed a militaristic slave ring with no personal autonomy or identity at all. There had been no control, at least not that he had. Now it seemed that he would have more control than he ever imagined.

But this struck him as odd. Then it struck him as wickedly brilliant. There could be no better way to control a large population than by denying them of their very base needs, by withholding food and water and rest, and even companionship. He had fallen victim to it himself, could remember a time only days ago when he would have done anything that Bingwei had ordered just for a bowl of rice or a few minutes of sleep, though he would never show it. Such treatment would serve two purposes: It would bend the populace to a single command, and it would cull the flock. Anyone who couldn't survive on meager rations and little sleep did not belong.

Mako wondered what happened to those people, but shook the thought away. It would do no good to imagine.

But those who _could _survive, those who could _thrive_ under such conditions, were rewarded with particularly meager advantages. The way Bingwei had explained it, he would merely have the autonomy to take care of himself in the way he needed to. He would have his base needs met, his basic human rights returned. And to most, Mako imagined, that restoration would look like heaven, particularly with the addition of _girls and the time to use them_.

"So," Mako feigning curiosity, "you said girls?"

It was the first time that Mako had seen Bingwei smile genuinely, and it was a coy and devilish smile that set Mako's very full stomach to lurching. "I did. What of it?"

"How does that work, exactly?"

The smile faded, and Bingwei glared at Mako with very narrow, very skeptical eyes. "You mean to tell me you've never been with a girl? At your age?"

Mako flushed, slightly embarrassed but more afraid of how this fact—it was a fact—would impact his standing in the order. Was it expected? Was this supposed to be public knowledge here? It wouldn't serve him well to be viewed as inferior, not so soon. "You know that's not what I meant," he lied. "I was talking about the protocol. The only girls I've seen since I got here were either in the line from the boat or the ones who just brought us our food."

Once again, the devilish smile stretched on Bingwei's face. "You'll find out about that later on, daydreamer." Then he stood quite suddenly and rapped his knuckles on the table. "Lunch has concluded," he said sternly. "We'll tour the officer's compound and acclimate you to your new position. It won't do to have you running about like a _lost_ idiot."

Mako did not miss the inflection.

"At five o'clock we're to reconvene in the meeting hall for a final assembly and the swearing in, and then we'll commence with dinner in the dormitory."

Bingwei had begun walking toward the door as he spoke, and Mako followed him closely. He dared not walk in stride, nor side-by-side. He wasn't this man's equal.

Not yet, anyway.

"What happens after dinner?" Mako asked as they exited the mess hall.

"You really are dense, aren't you? It's a shame none of the other recruits in your squad were worth the trouble of promotion."

This admission made Mako forget all about what might come after dinner. "Not even Yaozhu?"

"Too young. Too unreliable," Bingwei explained. "Combustion benders on the whole don't understand the way the world works. Small tribes of savages on remote islands, they are, no real contact with society. Maybe a radio, if they're particularly advanced."

"But he did everything you asked of him," Mako said. "Without complaint. Even I didn't do that."

Bingwei stopped so abruptly that Mako nearly ran into him, and he rounded with a look of disbelief. "Are you suggesting we made the wrong choice? You'd have us pitch you back among the slaves and lift a _combustion bender_ to officer? Where's your pride, daydreamer?"

Mako bristled. "My name is _Mako_," he said defiantly. "And I'm not a slave."

Bingwei rocked back on his heels casually and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. His eyebrows had raised in the same appraising look that he had always given to Yaozhu, and Mako could almost see the corners of his mouth turn up. "Well said, Mako. Now, come along."

It did not take long for Mako to catch on to the game. Yes, Bingwei was still his superior, but he was no longer so superior that he could treat Mako as dirt, and it seemed to be Mako's duty to make sure that Bingwei knew it. A little insubordination, a little back-talk, a sarcastic jibe on occasion, would go a long way toward establishing—or repairing—their relationship. Bingwei was no longer his _captain_; Bingwei was now his _mentor_.

Mako walked alongside Bingwei for the remainder of their long tour, keeping stride through barracks and halls and all the other buildings that comprised the officer's compound until at last they came to a long two-story building made of dark red brick.

"This is our dormitory," Bingwei said as they stood outside, and his voice had taken a quiet, deadly tone. "It is where all commanding officers are housed from guards to captains to His Excellency, when he visits. You would do well to keep quiet while you're here. Follow."

Mako followed.

The building itself stood in excellent condition as compared to the remainder of the compound: Everything from the rugs on the floor to the pictures on the wall was Fire Nation red with glimmering gold accents. Lighting the corridors were large wall-mounted fires that cast a warm glow over everything and set eerie shadows to flickering.

Bingwei led Mako up a flight of dark mahogany stairs, across a wide and spacious landing furnished with plush red armchairs and chaise lounges, and into a wide corridor. Down they went, to the sixth door on the left, a stained wooden panel with a wide arched window in the top. Bingwei stopped with his hand on the knob.

"This is our quarters."

The apartment easily rivaled his Republic City flat in size, and certainly bested it in decoration. Wide open, sunlight poured in through enormous glass-paneled windows that opened onto a balcony overlooking the yard, and the same armchairs and lounges that had occupied the commons were also present here.

Mako didn't have time to stare, though he certainly wanted to. Bingwei led him purposefully through the beautiful sitting room to its other side, where an open doorway let into what must have been their bedroom. A second vast space, it housed two matching beds and two chests of drawers, a table for each and a single small ladder-back chair. On one of the beds was situated two pristine uniforms with boots on top, and one set of nightclothes.

On the whole, the place seemed extremely comfortable, except for its utter lack of bathroom and kitchen.

"No privacy," Bingwei said plainly, gesturing about the room. "Everything you do, I see. Everything I do, you see. There aren't secrets here. You had best get used to it, and I'd better not hear any whining. If you don't like it, you go to the common areas. There's a public shower at the end of the hallway, the lounge we passed on the way here, and the kitchens downstairs."

"And I'm free to go wherever I want?"

"You're free to go to the showers, the lounge, and the kitchens. And that's on your own time. Now, you've got an hour until we're set to swear you in. You'd best change into your new clothes and be ready to go when I get back."

Bingwei began to walk toward the bedroom door, and Mako watched him go.

"Where are you going?" Mako asked as Bingwei rounded the corner.

"I've got arrangements to make."

And before he knew it the door to the apartment clicked shut, and Mako was alone.

His first instinct was to explore, to leave the apartment and see as much of this building as he possibly could as fast as he could before Bingwei returned. But as he stood staring at the brand-new uniform on _his_ well-made, heavily cushioned bed, he considered otherwise. This development meant luxury. For the first time since he'd waked from the blast in Ba Sing Se, he would be comfortable. Besides, he rationalized, with only an hour before he was to head out again there would be no way to investigate the building properly, particularly when he had no idea how large it was and how many rooms he would be able to access. Bingwei had been particularly terse when Mako had asked about access, and told him that he was only to visit the showers, the lounge, and the kitchen. To be caught out of bounds at this point would jeopardize the whole mission.

But what was the mission? What was he actually _doing_ here? What was he hoping to achieve?

A strange feeling overcame Mako then, a feeling of dread and hopelessness and overwhelming confusion. Certainly, he had been playing along with Bingwei today with every intention of informing Beifong about this place, about the Society, and how they could stop it. Eventually. For now, he had been acting on the side of the lawful and just. But beyond his sudden intention the most powerful motivator he had felt was self-preservation. Of course, he could rationalize his actions and say that he'd meant for all of this to happen, but when it came down to it he never knew what was going on, never knew what horrible situation he'd landed in, and had acted only out of desperation. It was only by pure luck that he'd ended up here in this room, faced with a promotion that he could never have anticipated. This had been a blind stumble, not a carefully coordinated plan to infiltrate the chain of command, and even the blind stumble had been incomprehensibly lucky.

What had he done? Had he played his part so well that he'd been promoted without ever intending to be? He must have fooled his squadmates and superiors into believing that he was the most suited to lead them in the field despite his own belief that he was the least qualified to do so. But had he _actually_ fooled them? Hadn't he been acting genuinely? Was he fitting in with these horrible people without ever meaning to?

Mako found his body moving of its own volition. He changed obediently into the new uniform, admired briefly the dual chevrons on his shoulders, and folded his old uniform. All of this he put into the chest of drawers nearest his bed. And then he exited the bedroom.

With a sigh he slumped sideways onto one of the armchairs in the sitting room and stared out the enormous windows. In the yard below, a squad was training.

These people weren't horrible, he thought. These people were just like him: even Bingwei. Everyone he had met on this terrible journey had been acting the same as he had been, out of the need to survive and thrive. And none of them had done anything truly evil, not when he considered their motives. Everyone must have been just as desperate as he had been, and how could he fault them for acting on that? How could he fault them for working to make their situation better? If he had known at the outset that obeying commands would earn him a comfortable bed in a luxurious apartment and as many hot meals a day as he could want, he most certainly would never have acted out those first days of training. He would have been a model citizen.

Mako rubbed at his face, let his head hang over the armrest, and kept his eyes closed for a long time. All these conflicting thoughts had given him an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, almost as if the sea slug had come back to life inside him. He was going to be a captain, but he was a Republic City detective. He was going to take care of the men in his squad to the best of his ability, but by doing so would be providing an enormous benefit to the society he considered his enemy. He was about to pledge his allegiance to the Democratic Society of Firebenders, but all he wanted to do was go home.

What was he doing?

"Time to go, kid."

Mako had not been expecting Bingwei to return so soon. But how long had he been laying here? The time seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye.

With a deep breath, Mako forced himself to stand, forced himself to maintain a straight face. No matter what, he thought as he followed Bingwei out of the dormitory, he would act in the name of what he thought was right. He would gain as much information as he could as fast as he could, and he would report it to the Chief as soon as he was able. And once he was back home…

How was he going to get back home?

"You look sick," Bingwei said curtly. "Couldn't handle the slug?"

Startled, Mako looked up to him and nodded. "A little exotic for me," he lied dryly.

Bingwei laughed and slapped Mako hard on the back. "You and I might get along after all."

If anything, that made Mako feel worse. Now the man whom he had hated above all others was treating him kindly.

For the next hour and a half Mako went through the motions, his brilliant plan to infiltrate the society all but forgotten among the tug-of-war in his brain. It felt as if his mind had disconnected from his body. He didn't remember the vows as he recited them alongside twelve other men, barely registered the shining rose-gold pin that Bingwei attached to the right breast of his uniform, and responded to the congratulations and general applause as a man of stature was expected to.

Then he was back in the dormitory's kitchen, seated on the bench of an enormous trestle table between Bingwei and an older man whose name he couldn't remember if he tried, eating komodo chicken and fried crab and the same spicy dumplings he'd choked down at lunch. It didn't seem to burn as much now, and he cleared two plates without a second thought.

It was only when Bingwei slapped his back again that Mako jolted back to reality. The plates had been cleared away, his cup of lychee tea had disappeared and been replaced by some new liquid in a clear glass. Only a couple dozen men remained in the room, the same men with whom he had taken his vows, and each of them sat at perfect attention. Each of them had a glass of his own.

"Rise for His Excellency, Guan the Liberator!"

Mako rose.

He recognized Guan at once. The blob of colors he'd seen upon waking had developed distinctive features and a commanding presence, all dressed in maroon with shining gold pins adorning his breast. Alongside him were a crowd of men who walked with eerily straight postures and saluted when they stopped.

Toru. She was there, standing at the end of the line and looking utterly defeated.

"So," Bingwei whispered smugly, "you remember what I said about the girls?"

Mako nodded just slightly, but Bingwei said no more. Guan had begun to speak.

"Congratulations to all of you, new captains and commanders. On this day you have proven yourself to be valuable members of our society, who stand up for what is right in the world and are devoted to the preservation and elevation of firebenders everywhere! Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow, we train!"

Every man in the room grabbed their glass and drank as one, and when Mako did not, Bingwei elbowed him hard in the side.

Mako drank. He wanted to retch on the spot.

"Ever had cactus juice before?"

Mako shook his head.

"Hang on tight, then, kid. You're in for a ride."

That was the last thing he remembered.


	12. Collapse

Frantically, Bolin threw clothes into the almost wholly empty bag the air acolytes had towed to his apartment. He didn't know where he would go—perhaps to Ba Sing Se as he had originally planned to search for Mako's killers—but he had to leave the city before he lost his mind completely. Each time he thought back on his argument with Lin his stomach twisted in disgust. How could he have lost control? He just got his bending back. Why had the lava come so easily?

"Bolin, what are you doing?"

He ignored the voice. He had expected this. Lin and Su would have contacted everyone, and no doubt they would send someone to check the apartment. He continued packing, his mind a blur.

"Where are you going to go?"

He threw the last shirt from the pile into his bag and stormed into the bedroom to retrieve a new stack. Opal still stood in the entryway when he returned to the sitting room. He had hoped she would disappear. He didn't look at her, couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"Bolin!"

He sat with his back to the door and continued stuffing clothes into his bag.

Next he knew, Opal was seated beside him, her legs crossed and hands folded in her lap. She stared at him. Her forehead wrinkled with intense worry, but she said nothing for a long time. All she did was watch.

"What do you plan to do once you've repacked all your things?"

Bolin shook his head desperately.

"You know, you hurt my mother when you shoved her. You nearly melted Aunt Lin's office..." Opal looked around. "And Pabu's just...Cowering over there."

Shamed, Bolin closed his eyes and looked away, his face tensed, jaw clenched. He shook his head again. Even Pabu wouldn't come near him now. "I'm sorry..."

"Were you just going to leave me here? Were you going to say anything before you left? What if I'd gotten here an hour later? What would I have found?"

He dropped his forehead onto his hand and shook his head a third time. Opal sounded angry. He couldn't bear for her to be angry with him now, too. "I don't know!"

"Put your clothes down, you're not going anywhere," Opal said sternly. She stood and exited to the bathroom, returning moments later with a damp towel. Again, she sat beside him and stared. "I said to put the clothes down. You need to listen to me."

Bolin raised his head but kept his eyes locked on the ground. "I don't know what's happening to me," he said.

Opal dabbed at his face with the cool towel and sighed, "You're a mess." She examined the sweat and tears and dirt she'd wiped away. "That's all."

"I think I'm losing my mind," Bolin whispered, and he dropped his head into his hands once more. "I think I'm going crazy."

Opal dabbed at the back of his neck and shook her head. "No. You're not. Come on, let's get you a bath..."

Opal stood and pulled Bolin to his feet. He came only reluctantly, occasionally stumbling over himself. She sat him on the edge of the bath and turned on the water. "You take a little while to cool off," she instructed. "Relax and clean yourself up. You'll feel better, I promise. I have to go call my mom and let her know we're okay."

"Are we okay?"

With a benevolent smile, Opal stood. "I can't pretend that I know what's going on in your head right now, but no matter what happens, I'll stick by you."

Bolin nodded, and Opal left. He sat for a long time, the water rushing behind him, until the basin was full and he could no longer ignore the aching in his body. He couldn't remember the point at which everything began hurting, but it was enough to lure him in. He lay, head back with the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes, and wondered exactly what had happened over the last hours. He'd been angry before he ever went to see Lin. He'd been stewing about the summit all week, and the stress had finally come to a head. He'd lost control of his bending in such a way as he had never done before, not even as a child. He hadn't intended to bend the rock in her office, much less liquefy it. Melting the earth had always taken intense concentration, and more besides to manipulate it. But now he had done it without even thinking.

He had scared himself.

By the time Bolin had calmed enough to dry and dress the water had gone cold. When he mustered up the nerve to exit the bathroom he found Opal seated on the sofa, telephone receiver in hand with a frustrated expression wrinkling her face. Pabu had nestled on her lap and she absently stroked his head.

"No, mom," Opal said, exasperated. "Everything is okay. He's in the bath, you don't need to send anyone... No, don't send Korra. No, we don't need to go to Air Temple Island. He needs space. A _lot_ of space. No, mom," she repeated, more forcefully this time. "I promise everything is fine... I didn't say anything about it. No, I'm _not_ lying," she paused and glanced at Bolin, eyebrow raised, and resumed her call. "I'm not going to leave him by himself. We're safe at the apartment, it's quiet here. I plan to stay overnight and keep an eye on things. I can handle it, and even if things do get crazy I know you and Aunt Lin are only a phone call away. I know, I know. Love you, too." She placed the receiver on its base and regarded Bolin curiously, but she didn't say a word.

"I need to explain," Bolin said after a while in a voice that was so small he scarcely believed it was his own. He hadn't moved from the doorway. He felt nervous just looking at her. He crossed his arms and fidgeted, leaned against the jamb.

"You don't need to explain," Opal replied. "You need to go to bed. Aunt Lin wants you at work tomorrow."

This confused him. Given their most recent interaction, Bolin figured that Lin would want him well away from her and well away from the project. "She does?"

"She does. I talked to her before I called my mom. She told me," Opal paused and knitted her brow, assuming a severe expression, and lowered her voice in her best impression of Lin, "If his bending is that strong I want him front and center first thing tomorrow morning. Let him take it out on a building that _isn't_ occupied." Opal paused and smiled, as if waiting for a reaction. When the silence grew awkward she continued, "I'm guessing you didn't eat dinner."

"No. I'm not hungry."

"All right then," she gave Pabu a gentle pat on the rump, and the fire ferret skittered away. Then she stood and started toward the kitchen, her gait full of purpose. "You go get in bed, I'll get you some food so you can relax and go to sleep."

"I just said I'm not hungry," Bolin protested. "And I'm not tired. It's not even dark yet."

"No argument. You're going to eat and you're going to rest. Now go on." Opal disappeared into the kitchen, and her tone had left no room for Bolin to dispute.

With a distinct slump in his shoulders Bolin retired to his bed, still unmade from the morning, and stared at the wall. He felt keenly aware of Mako's absence now, of the quietness of the apartment, and when he thought of his high spirits only a couple of days ago he wondered if it had been fake. Had he been pretending? Had he been wrong?

It was not long before Opal came back bearing a cup of instant noodles. She wore a frown, but presented him with the food all the same. "Your kitchen was empty," she said, as though it should explain everything.

Again, Bolin felt ashamed, and again he wanted to explain himself. "Opal, listen. I—"

"Nope. Eat your food and go to sleep," said Opal firmly. "Whatever it is you're trying to tell me can wait until you've rested."

"I just wanted you to know—"

"I already know, otherwise I wouldn't be here. Now, please, please try to rest."

It sounded like she was begging, and in the face of that Bolin could not argue.

"I'll come check on you in a while," Opal said, her voice more tender now than it had been before. "But I need to go make another few phone calls."

She kissed him on the forehead. Then she was gone.

For a while, Bolin tentatively picked at the noodles until his stomach lurched. He couldn't be certain if the lurch was hunger or guilt, so he ate a few bites, picked at the noodles until his stomach lurched again, and then ate a few more. Satisfied enough, he placed his still-heaping cup on the bedside table and lay back against his pillow. In the quiet he could hear Opal's voice from the sitting room carrying the same firm but wholly gentle tone that she had used with him. It was an altogether comforting tone now that it wasn't turned on him, and as he closed his eyes it lulled him toward sleep.

He stood in a Ba Sing Se that wasn't Ba Sing Se, in an upper ring that wasn't the upper ring. People that weren't people rushed around frantically, terrified, screaming, tending to wounded and covering the dead. It must have been the explosion, he thought. It must have just happened. But nothing had been destroyed. No debris littered the ground. He could not tell what they were running from, nor what had caused such harm to the people.

Suddenly the ground went out from underneath him, its solidity vanished in a flash of heat and light and the smell of sulfur and brimstone, and when he opened his eyes against it he gasped. All around him the ground had begun to boil, to redden with heat and melt away in a great sea of lava which radiated to a distant horizon. The bodies that had been on the ground began sinking into it, lazily disappearing below the bubbling surface. And the people who had been running, the ones who had been fleeing—

Screams. Flailing arms, frantic cries. Pain. Feet first they were being engulfed by the rising tide. They were reaching out to him, pleading with him to pull them out. Horrified, he drew his hands to bend the lava away, to cool it, to subdue it, but the earth would not respond. Flames licked at their clothes, at their faces, at their hair. The stink of burned flesh made him dizzy. The bubbling of their skin made him nauseous. One by one the people that weren't people melted into the same lump of bloodied, blistered meat that he'd seen at the precinct. One by one, they turned into...

Bolin woke to the sound of his own tremulous breathing. His body felt numb, his limbs weighted down with lingering terror. It took a long time for him to inventory himself, to convince himself that he was, in fact, still lying on his bed in the same position in which he'd fallen asleep. He was still safe in his apartment. Everything he had seen had been a sick nightmare.

With great effort, Bolin willed himself to move. First he flexed his hands, then lifted his arms, and eventually managed to sit upright. He rubbed at his face with cold, clammy hands and looked about the room. Pabu had nestled on the bed at his feet at some point, and presently raised his head to give Bolin a sleepy look. Mako's bed remained unoccupied and pristine, just as it had been the day he'd gone off to Ba Sing Se. Opal was nowhere to be found.

Pabu whimpered.

"It's okay, buddy," Bolin whispered. "It was just a dream."

But he remembered the way they looked. He remembered the way they smelled. The way they screamed. A wave of nausea rolled over him.

He got to his feet slowly, his whole body quaking. With one hand on his forehead and the other on his gut he made his way to the door. Some water and fresh air would help. The radio, maybe. He stopped with his hand trembling on the doorknob. Was Opal talking? He pressed his ear to the door.

"...doing it two days from now. We got Tenzin's approval but there was already a tour group going out there tomorrow." It was Korra's voice, speaking in hushed and secretive tones. But when had she gotten here? And what was she talking about?

"What can I do?" asked Opal's voice in the same small voice that Korra had used.

"Keep him occupied," Korra replied. "He'll go to work tomorrow and the day after, but you'll need to keep him away from the precinct in the evening. I don't think he had any plans to come to Air Temple Island either, so it shouldn't be too much trouble." She paused, and when she spoke next her tone had shifted. She sounded troubled. She sounded concerned. "Has _he_ been any trouble?"

"No," Opal said. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared when I got here."

"I was scared when Su told me you had come over. The way he's been lately I worried he might do something…I don't know, like hit you or bend at you or... You know what I mean."

Bolin grimaced and let his hand fall away from the doorknob, let his body slack enough that his forehead connected with the door with the tiniest thump. He stood that way for a while, listening as Korra and Opal discussed him and his recent behavior in less than flattering words, then he slunk back to the bed and collapsed atop it.

He drifted fitfully in and out of sleep marked by afterimages of his nightmare and thoughts of Opal and Korra's disappointment in him. Once he woke to the sound of the door opening, of Opal's quiet footsteps approaching the bed. She drew the covers over him and touched his face gently, unaware that he was not sleeping. Then she left. He woke again some unknown time later and thought he could hear the faintest sound of crying through the bedroom door. The next time the sun had begun peeking over the horizon, casting a dull orange glow through the window. He watched the light creep across the wall for what felt like hours, until at last he resigned himself to a day of exhaustion and got up.

Opal was sleeping soundly on the sofa. He was due at work in half an hour. He dressed in silence, covered her with the blanket from his own bed, and left without saying good-bye.

He arrived on site twelve minutes late, and though he knew that Wing and Wei would never say anything to him about the matter Bolin could tell that they were upset. Whether it was because he was late or because of what he had done to Suyin or some suspicion about Opal he didn't know. Still, he soldiered on beside them for an hour until the quiet became too much, then he excused himself to go work somewhere else, somewhere by himself.

Things went slowly, and what work Bolin accomplished was sloppy. Certainly, he could bend the discs of earth he had been provided, could spin them and toss them around as well as any other day, but lavabending came only with difficulty. He could excite the rock, could liquefy it at least partially, but its heat could not compare with days prior and it did not cut as cleanly as he needed it to. He felt too tired. His heart just wasn't in it. Every time he bent the earth he thought about the nightmare.

As lunchtime neared, Bolin took his break and sat atop the ruins of his building, now an open slab of concrete floor with half a wall and lingering metal supports, and he watched as the other earthbenders on duty exited their sites and strolled off to eat. From ten stories up he saw Wing and Wei practically bolt out the door of the building adjacent, their energy as high as ever. Even if he had been hungry, he wouldn't have joined them. With the same trepidation he'd felt the whole night prior Bolin backed himself against a girder and closed his eyes, counting the seconds as they passed.

The last number he remembered counting was one hundred and two. He'd dozed and woke again, though he couldn't tell how long he'd been asleep. Not long, judging by the quiet. If workers had come back there would be sounds of thumping and grinding and warping metal. The only sound he could hear was the general noise of the city carrying on the wind.

And then a strange, eerily familiar _pop_.

Confused, Bolin looked up and across the way. He could see a figure standing atop the nearest building, staring at him. The air between had distorted slightly, like a shimmering bolt racing through clear space.

Combustion.

Without thought, Bolin dove forward and the bolt connected with the girder. Dust flew from the impact, and the explosion bloomed with a deafening boom that sent him sprawling. Dazed, he scrambled to his feet as another bolt connected. He sprinted flat out across the open floor and hid behind what remained of the wall. There was not enough cover, he thought as he looked around. There wasn't enough earth to both protect him _and_ fight back. All that remained of the building now was metal that he couldn't bend and a few piles of crumbling bricks that once had served as walls. Yes, there was the floor beneath his feet, but to displace any part of that would certainly cause a collapse.

Another combustion bolt connected with the wall, blowing it to dust and leaving Bolin dangerously exposed. He scrambled away. There was no time to contemplate. There was no time to wonder who this combustion bender was or why he was attacking. There was only time to fight back.

He swept his right foot behind, kicking a single brick into the air behind his left shoulder. He caught it with all his might and hurled it across the way with a lumbering hook. Without stopping to see if he had connected, Bolin repeated the move again, then a third time, left and right, barraging the enemy with as many projectiles as he could find. There were not many, and none of them hit the mark.

Two more explosions shook the floor and supports around him, and the building emitted a low, thunderous creak. In panic Bolin rushed back toward what little of the wall remained. He planted his feet, summoned all his strength, and heaved the five-foot block of brick free of its mortar. He shifted his weight back, preparing a mighty kick to launch it away, but before he could follow through there came another pop, and the blow struck solidly. The brick disintegrated beneath the enormous blast, and next Bolin knew he was on the ground, skidding away toward the open edge of the platform.

He whirled to his feet, kicking two loose bricks away as he went, and searched for more ammunition. Another blast rocked the concrete immediately to his left so Bolin darted to the right, toward his abandoned pack and the discs of shaped earth that it contained. With a dive turned shoulder roll he dodged another blast and grabbed the pack, wrenching the serrated disc from within it. Breathless and exhausted, he turned the disc between his outstretched palms. Its edges began to glow softly.

Another burst of combustion echoed out from beyond.

Bolin let fly the disc as he dove out of the line of fire, and he watched it shoot uselessly past his mark. As he rolled to his feet he reached out to pull the stone back, but it was too far gone. An explosion burst in the air before him and again Bolin was on his back, the wind blown from his lungs. There came an earsplitting _crack_ from below. The floor pitched and rolled. As he lay staring into the open sky there came a moment of intense silence, of extraordinary calm, and in those seconds Bolin knew that collapse was imminent. The structure had been weakened long before the fighting ever began. He'd been dismantling it all day. There had been too many blasts. There wasn't enough support.

With a cry of desperation and a jolt of adrenaline he kicked up to his feet, ripping a wide expanse of the concrete floor into the air. He dove into a walkover to build momentum and launched the slab across the way two-handed and with reckless ferocity. He landed clumsily and stumbled to his hands and knees, a searing pain shooting through his leg. He hadn't heard the popping of combustion, hadn't seen the shimmering of the air.

The floor buckled beneath the blast, and Bolin fell.

* * *

It had been too long since Korra had spent time in meditation, but now that she was sitting in the twilight air with the soft rush of the Republic City Bay in the background, she realized how much she had missed it. Too much time had passed since the last time she felt able to focus on herself. But now things had calmed down, at least for the moment, and she felt free to let her mind wander.

The meditation was not particularly relaxing. As her mind roamed, Korra recalled the funeral and its aftermath, Bolin's bending block breaking free in a monstrous display of lavabending, the Earth Nation Summit. Everything had seemed so dire of late, but Wu's waking had brought new hope. They would exhume the platinum box tomorrow. They would examine the body inside and determine once and for all whether it was Mako or not. In the best case they would realize their mistake, they could tell Bolin that his brother was alive somewhere even if he had been captured or kidnapped. In the worst case, they would confirm what they had believed all along and begin the process of healing. Either way would bring much-needed closure.

In her heightened state of awareness, Korra knew that someone was approaching and she listened carefully to the footfalls. They stopped some distance away and she waited for words.

"Korra?"

It was Tenzin. His voice had been small but sharp with the slightest hint of distress. He approached again, his stride slower than before.

"Korra?"

Korra drew herself out of the meditation, slowly easing back into reality. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep and calming breath, exhaled slowly and with control. By the time Tenzin had come round to her front she had awakened completely, and she gazed up at him from her seat on the ground with confusion. He looked the way he had sounded, all wrinkle-browed and stern-faced. Even his posture hinted at urgency.

"You need to come with me," he said at once, and he extended a hand to help her to her feet.

Korra accepted graciously. "What's the matter?"

Tenzin faltered, as though groping for words that he did not know. He stammered and then he paused, dropped his eyes to the ground, and heaved an enormous sigh. Then he met Korra's gaze squarely and said, "We're going to the hospital. There's been an accident."

Silence lingered between the two for only a moment before Tenzin marched purposefully away toward the bison stables. Korra followed, stunned into silence. It was not the first time she'd been summoned to the scene of some public mishap to perform cleanup or offer statements. It was not even the first time Tenzin had told her there had been a problem. No, it hadn't been the words that had startled her; it had been his tone, the look on his face, the slightest slump in his posture.

"Lin has asked us to come," Tenzin said as he airlifted himself onto his customary position around Oogi's head, and Korra followed into the passenger basket. "We can phone the Future Industries office later and let Asami know what's happened."

"What's going on?" Korra asked, finding her words at last.

Tenzin coaxed Oogi off the ground with a _yip yip_ before beginning his explanation, and when he spoke he did so slowly, with discretion and care for the way he chose his words. "I told you, Lin called just after dinner. She informed me that a building collapsed downtown today around noon when most of the workers were away. No one came back for a time, so no one knew that it happened. No onlookers suspected anything was wrong, as buildings have been coming down all week." Tenzin paused, and Korra could see his shoulders rise and fall as he sighed. "The twins called her to the scene as soon as they returned from their lunch. They might've been gone an hour, perhaps more."

Korra's stomach dropped out. Her blood ran cold. "What are you saying?"

Tenzin sighed deeply. "Bolin was caught in the collapse. Lin said that he was hurt badly." By this time, Oogi had touched down on the empty road outside of the Republic City Hospital, and Tenzin dismounted. Once Korra had hopped down herself, he dismissed the bison and watched it fly off. Then, he turned to her once more. "When I talked to Lin earlier, he was still alive."

_Still alive_? The words made it sound as though Bolin was barely hanging on, as if there was a chance that he might…

Korra shook the thought from her head and kept pace with Tenzin through the front doors, around long winding hallways, up several flights of stairs, until at last they entered a mostly-deserted, wide corridor, dimly lit and eerily quiet. Down the way, Korra could see a handful people gathered outside a door, and as they approached she could hear them. Opal was there, crying, and Suyin was holding her, cooing gently. Wing and Wei sat beside each other, their backs to the wall and their eyes on their shoes.

Su seemed to notice Korra before anyone else, and she turned with an outstretched arm to welcome Korra into her and Opal's comforting embrace. She whispered, "It's going to be okay," several times before Korra pulled away from her and looked between the gathering.

"What's his status?" Tenzin asked officially. "Any change?"

Su shook her head, indicating the negative. "Lin went back to the precinct an hour ago to gather more information. She should be back soon. In the meantime, I managed to get in for a few minutes but they herded me out again pretty quickly."

"And?" Tenzin prompted.

"He's still unconscious. They had healers in to start on what they could, but," Su looked to the ground with a sigh, "we don't know anything yet, and we won't until he wakes up and explains to us exactly what happened."

"_If_ he wakes up," uttered Wei from the ground.

Opal wailed.

Korra slumped against the wall with her hands cupped around her nose and mouth. It felt suddenly quite hard to breathe, as though all the air had been sucked from the room.

"We're going to stay out here until he's stabilized," Su instructed. "The healers told us that they'll let us know when it's all right to go in. They've been coming and going all afternoon. They've been very kind."

Korra could not imagine how difficult Su's position must be, standing vigil outside a door through which she could not go, comforting her children. Wing and Wei must've been here for hours, must have helped to dig him out. Likely they had been the first to arrive at the scene. There was no doubt in her mind that they would have contacted Opal immediately upon arriving here. It was well after sunset by now. If the collapse had happened around noon—how many hours had Bolin been out? How many hours had they all been here, just waiting?

Korra sunk listlessly down until she was seated beside Wing. She assumed much the same posture, fidgeting with her hands and staring at her boots. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

For as long as he could remember Bolin had been running, scrambling, rushing with all haste through the great lava ocean. It rolled on forever, dotted here and there with tiny islands of earth over which he picked his stumbling path. He sprinted past blistered bodies and rubble buildings lost in the vast expanse, past Mako's disfigured corpse and the ruins of a Ba Sing Se that wasn't Ba Sing Se. Explosions burst at his heels with such constancy and accuracy that all he could hear was one continuous crash, like the rolling of thunder without rain. Sometimes they bloomed so close that he could feel the wind rushing off them, could feel the heat washing over him.

He did not know from where the explosions were coming, could not tell who or what had produced them, and he did not care. All he could do was run and dodge and hope that they would stop soon. He had been so tired. All he could remember was exhaustion. Running and exhaustion. He wanted to sleep.

And then there was an end. A single island of glassy obsidian rock protruded from the depths, and beyond it was no more. Nowhere else to run. Bolin stood upon the stone, staring into the black beyond before whirling about to face the onslaught. A thousand and more figures glided eerily along the surface of the lava ocean, a thick cloud of dust and debris floating about them like fog. They were figures with no faces and no features but for the glowing red eyes upon their foreheads, single orbs of evil intent that gazed holes through him as magma bores through rock.

They were combustion benders.

They were trying to kill him.

All at once a swell of energy coursed through him, cut through the fatigue like cold steel, and his arms drew upward of their own volition with strength he thought he'd lost. And as his arms raised higher and higher so, too did the tide of lava grow behind him. Its immense weight bore down on him as though he had bent the whole of the Earth. His aching muscles strained as he began to move, he felt them tearing under the stress, and he hurled the great wave forward. The lava crested, its shadow cast over the advancing figures, and the sweeping wall crashed violently to the ground. It enveloped him, seared him through his core, and drove the world to black. It crushed him from above, rendered his whole body immobile. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. He couldn't bend. He couldn't speak.

But he could feel his body beginning to burn.

* * *

Bolin bolted upright in the dark, his chest heaving with labored breaths, his heart in his throat, his body numb with fear. It was the same as it had been in his apartment, the same as when he woke from the first nightmare. He stared ahead at the place where his feet should have been but his eyes would not focus. His head was spinning. Desperately he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbed the sweat from his forehead, and finally looked around again. His breathing would not slow, and the trembling in his hands did not stop. His eyes would not focus. Unfettered panic began morphing into crippling pain.

He did not recognize this room or the bed upon which he sat, but he remembered what had happened before the fall, before the endless dream. There had been a combustion bender. He had been on the roof. The whole place had caved in. Bolin remembered falling backward, the metal and stone of the building following him down. The noise had been incredible.

"You weren't supposed to wake up," said a voice from somewhere beyond the foot of the bed.

Bolin stared wide-eyed into the dark, panicked and confused. His eyes ached and his head throbbed so fiercely that his vision blackened at its periphery. For a moment he thought he was seeing things. There was a figure there, a huge and lumbering body obscured by the shadows. It was like the figures from his dreams, the featureless wraiths that had chased him. Terrified, he recoiled, his legs pumping clumsily to propel himself backward. But his body would not respond the way he wanted it to; he fell over himself on the bed and landed hard with his back against what must have been the headboard. A searing pain bolted through his shoulder. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and feel it pounding in his chest, in his throat, behind his eyes.

The figure stepped forward.

"You're stubborn. Talented, but stubborn. A shame you weren't touched by fire."

The figure's face screwed up in concentration, in the expression that Bolin recognized as the wind-up to combustion. It was as if time had stopped, and in a fraction of a second Bolin's body froze and a thousand thoughts rolled through his exhausted, impaired mind. This was no dream. The pain he felt right now would be nothing compared to the pain of a direct hit. Opal would see him the same way he had seen Mako, all bloodied and blistered. He would be dead and gone. If fate was kind would it be over in an instant. If not, he would suffer. In another fraction of that same second, desperation welled up inside of him. He groped blindly about the bed for whatever implement he could find, his eyes locked on the man in shadow. He grasped cold metal and heaved it with all the power his body could muster, hurled it so forcefully that something somewhere in his pained arm popped grotesquely. The power of his throw bowled him over, bent him double on his knees on the bed, clutching at his shoulder and gritting his teeth against the agony.

He waited for a blast that did not come.


	13. Dreams

Korra had nearly dozed, had at some point slumped down even farther, her head resting gently on Wing's shoulder. The hours had passed slowly since she arrived at the hospital, and as far as she knew there had been no change from Bolin's room. Healers came and went, and each time one entered or exited the room Su or Opal or Tenzin would inquire about any changes. Eventually there came a time when the inquisition stopped, and all of them resigned themselves to waiting.

Su and Opal had joined her on the floor but Tenzin remained upright and alert, pacing up and down the way impatiently. His footsteps were the only thing keeping Korra awake. His anxiety felt contagious.

But then his footsteps stopped and Korra lifted her head sleepily. She rubbed at her eyes and followed Tenzin's gaze down the corridor where she could see Lin rushing forward with an urgent expression. She was followed by a white-capped healer.

"What took you so long?" Tenzin demanded, though his voice remained hushed. He shot a cursory glance at the healer as he entered Bolin's room, then turned his attention to Lin again. "We've been waiting here for hours."

"I got caught up at headquarters," Lin replied shortly. "The investigation hit a wall."

By this time, Su had gotten to her feet. "What's the trouble?"

"We've been combing through the remains of the building all day trying to figure out what caused it to fall. We found loose bricks a block away and one of Bolin's discs ended up on the roof two buildings down. They started digging through the rubble at ground zero tonight, and we found evidence of an explosion, several of them, and even with lavabending there's no way the kid could've…"

A thunderous cry erupted from behind the closed door, a throaty and desperate roar that chilled Korra's blood in her veins. Then the crash of broken glass. A heavy thud. By the time she had even thought to move Lin and Tenzin were through the door with Opal, Wing, and Wei on their heels. They stopped not more than a foot inside.

The first thing that Korra noticed upon entering the room was the body: The healer who had entered the room moments before lay sprawled on his back on the ground, a sizeable gash ripped into his uncapped, tattooed forehead. He was not moving. Beside him lay what once had been a metal desk lamp, or so she imagined, but it was dented and broken. This puzzled her, and for several long moments she looked between the two: The man, the lamp, the man, the lamp.

"Get that combustion bender in some kind of restraint!" Lin commanded.

Tenzin, Wing, and Wei set immediately to action, and for one last time Korra stared at the warped metal on the floor. Then she looked to the bed. At its foot, Bolin knelt on both knees, doubled over with his forehead pressed hard into the blanket, and he remained so quiet that she initially believed he had fainted. But then he moved just slightly, rocked forward and back, and clutched at his shoulder with a pitiful groan.

"You metalbent," Korra stammered at him. She couldn't bring herself to move. The sound he had made was inhuman.

"No, he didn't," Lin said, and she rushed forward with urgency in place of panic. "Su, with me. Opal, Korra, go get some help. I need as much security as this place has, right now. And healers!"

Korra had scarcely remembered that Opal was even there. She was standing back behind the commotion with her fingers curled in front of her mouth and an expression of abject horror on her face. She had gone the slightest shade of green and looked fit to burst into tears.

"Opal, go," Korra said, and she gently prodded Opal from the room. "I'll make sure things are okay in here."

"But…"

"Go. You don't need to see this." Korra didn't even know what _this_ would be.

Opal went.

"Get on the other side!"

Korra turned back around and watched Lin and Suyin moving about the bed. They stood opposite each other, Lin on Bolin's right side and Suyin on his left, and while Su wore the same look of horror that Opal had, Lin appeared particularly cool-headed as she issued commands. Together they set to work unfolding Bolin from his tightly coiled ball. He resisted, grasping at his arm, writhing and moaning, but eventually they got him upright and kept him that way.

"Hold him," Lin ordered. She had wrenched the hand clutching his shoulder away. Then she was grasping his injured arm by the elbow and wrist, two handed, and when she bent it he groaned sickly. Lin seemed unaffected by the noise. "You have to hold him steady and straight. Don't you dare let go."

Still looking terrified, Su did as she was told. One knee on the bed, the other on the floor, she cradled Bolin tightly and held fast to his good arm. She was squinting her eyes closed, her head turned away as if afraid to watch. Bolin squirmed weakly against her and Korra could just barely see him staring, perhaps deliriously, at Lin. And then his eyes went very wide with realization.

"No, Lin," he whimpered, his face white as driven snow. He tried to pull out of Suyin's grasp but she held him firm, one arm around his chest and the other around his head. She put her hand over his eyes and drew him even closer to her. He continued to beg, a terrified quiver in his voice. "No, Lin. No, Lin! _No! Lin!_ _Lin!_"

With one last nod to Su, Lin propped one foot on the bed and heaved against Bolin's arm. Korra cringed and looked away, but she could hear his anguished scream even as it was muffled by Suyin's arms. And then his shoulder gave a sickening, fleshy _pop_.

It took less than a second afterward for Bolin to faint, and Su stumbled under the unexpected weight. Had she not strained to keep steady, they would certainly have toppled to the floor. "Help me!" she cried.

Together, Lin and Su situated Bolin back on the bed where he lay very, very still and very, very pale.

Korra stood rooted to the spot, gaping and very slightly nauseous.

Lin straightened and looked between Korra and Su with narrowed eyes. "He didn't _bend_ anything," she explained flatly. "He threw his arm out. I've trained enough rookie metalbenders on the cables that I know a bum shoulder when I see one." She patted the cables mounted on her hip idly, as if what she had just done was commonplace. "The quicker you set it back the less painful it is."

Suddenly, it seemed the chaos had ended. The room had gone deathly quiet, and for a time nobody moved and nobody spoke. It was as if they all needed a moment to register what had just happened. But then Korra watched Lin approach the combustion bender, completely unfazed, and restrain him formally. Wing, and Wei had done a passable job of immobilizing him in a pinch, bending whatever metal implements they could find around his body. They seemed to have covered his whole head with what must once have been a metal bedpan, and they and Tenzin had been standing guard over him, waiting and watching for movement.

Lin, Su, and Tenzin began exchanging terse words, but Korra did not hear what they were saying. Instead, she approached the bed slowly, cautiously, afraid of what she would see. And then she was beside Bolin, gazing down. All the life had gone out of him. He was so still that for a moment she was convinced he wasn't breathing.

She had never seen him like this. She had never seen _anyone_ like this. In her wildest dreams, she could never have imagined the truth of it. Two days ago he had been fine—angry and temperamental, true—but he maintained the same energy and strength of presence as he had since the day she met him in the pro-bending arena. Now he looked dead.

Weak kneed, Korra could not help but sit. She touched his arm delicately, as if to make certain he was still there at all. His skin was cold. The muscles felt loose and feeble. Just as tentatively, Korra put her hand flat on his chest and held it there, feeling the faintest heartbeat. She pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. It was clammy and slick with sweat.

All at once, Korra realized that she had never _touched_ him like this, and she became instantly aware of how intimate it had been. She gave a self-conscious look about the room and, satisfied that no one had seen her, folded her hands sheepishly in her lap, uncertain what else to do.

Opal returned to the room within a few minutes, a veritable army of security personnel and a few additional healers behind her, and the room erupted into commotion again. Korra watched as Lin instructed a third of the guards to transport the combustion bender to lockup, and the guards removed him swiftly and quietly. The other two thirds dispersed to thoroughly sweep the building. Tenzin directed the healers toward the bed, and Su wrangled her exhausted children. Opal had stopped crying, the color had come back into her face, and she stared doe-eyed at Bolin. It looked as if she was ready to bolt toward him, but Su held her fast.

One of the healers hooked his arm around Korra's shoulders and escorted her from the bed toward the door. The remaining two rushed past with healing water in hand. She could see the faintest blue glow radiating from the spaces between them.

"Everybody out," said the healer who had helped Korra away. "We need—"

"No!" Korra protested. She ripped her arm away from the healer and glared at him. She felt suddenly very angry. The reality of the situation had finally hit home. "I'm not going anywhere! My friend was attacked by a man who broke into your hospital _under your noses_. How does that even happen? I'm staying here. Someone has to make sure he's safe, and it's clearly not going to be you."

The healer started to argue, but quieted when Tenzin stepped forward. There was something about the airbending master that could, when needed, be supremely imposing. "I agree with Avatar Korra," he said officially. "And having spoken to Chief Beifong, I think we all can agree that some additional security should be provided, at least until we know why and how this happened and can be sure there are no more threats here."

"No way it's coincidence," Lin grumbled from the doorway. "That combustion bender had an agenda. I'll bet anything he's the one that caused the building to collapse and that he came here to finish the job."

Tenzin looked back at Lin, incredulous, and then turned back to the healer. "I understand your concern, and I can agree that too many people can cause unnecessary stress," he said, his tone more relaxed now, "but you must understand our concerns as well."

The healer, now somewhat pale-faced, nodded.

"I'll arrange for the White Lotus to provide surveillance around this place until such a time as Bolin is released. With the addition of Lin's metalbenders there should be no issue, but making these arrangements will take time. I only ask that you allow Korra to remain, at least for the night, for extra protection."

"I don't have the authority to do any of that," said the healer. "But I can take you to the principal healer. He can allow it."

"Very well," Tenzin said. "Take me to him and we'll come to an agreement, I'm sure. Korra, I'll send the sentries as soon as I'm able."

"Call Asami," Korra said. "We never let her know what's going on."

"I'll call," said Suyin. "You all have more important things to take care of."

"But, mom," Opal was pleading now, tears rimming her eyes again. "I want to stay."

Suyin shook her head. "Not tonight, Opal. You need to rest."

"Don't worry," Korra said reassuringly. "You watched over him last night, and I'll watch over him tonight."

It seemed that Opal could not argue. Su led her from the room, coaxing her with promises that they could return first thing in the morning, after Opal had had a full night's rest. Wing and Wei followed, each casting a reluctant glance back into the room as they went. Then Tenzin was gone with the healer, and Korra and Lin were alone.

"You make sure they tend to that shoulder," Lin said, and though the words had come out a command her voice remained soft. "Putting it right is no problem, but it'll be trouble if they don't keep up with it. I'm going to go wake this combustion freak up and question the daylights out of him. It doesn't take a genius to see his connection with what happened today."

"What should I tell Bolin?" Korra glanced to the bed, where the healers had begun to back away as if taking inventory of his progress. She swallowed a lump in her throat. "If he wakes up?"

"Don't think you're going to have to worry about that," Lin said. "He was in bad shape when we found him, no doubt about it. Healers said he was lucky to be alive at all, ten stories worth of concrete and metal on top of him. I didn't realize he was in that mess for more than an hour after I arrived on scene. The twins couldn't find him." Lin stopped for a moment, the slightest edge of guilt in her voice, and she glanced toward the bed. "What happened just now: That was the first time he's been awake since we brought him here. It's a good sign, don't get me wrong, but after all the excitement I doubt he'll be back up any time soon."

Korra nodded, slightly reassured.

"You get some rest," Lin ordered. "I'll need your help tomorrow."

Again, Korra nodded, and Lin walked purposefully out the door.

Korra paced about the room for a while, keeping out of the way of the healers as they came and went, watching as they cleaned the mess that had been left by the sudden and unexpected attack, reminding them periodically to check on Bolin's shoulder. Eventually she found a seat on the floor in the corner nearest the door and fidgeted for a while, occasionally glancing up and hoping for some news, and for a long time nothing came. She could see nothing of what the healers were doing. But over time their visits became shorter and shorter, and continued to dwindle until no one came at all.

She was alone.

For a time Korra continued sitting, fidgeting, picking at her fingernails, biting them, and repeating the cycle until she began to wonder why she had stayed at all. The healers had already verified that she could provide no assistance to them, and she imagined that all the danger would have left with the strange combustion bender. Lin's guards had reported their sweep was clear. With the White Lotus arriving soon—or soon enough—and the already-present metalbending security force on the premises, there were plenty of safeguards even without her.

But that man got in despite it all.

Feeling lost and helpless, Korra closed her eyes but did not sleep for a time that could have been minutes or hours. She focused intently on listening, on waiting for a sound that did not belong, a thump or a crack or the soft squeaking of the door as it opened or closed. Instead she heard a gentle mumbling.

It was all she needed to be on her feet, her heart in her throat. "Bolin?" she asked quietly, but there came no response, not even the sound of mumbling.

Had she been hearing things?

Cautiously, she approached the bed, her eyes straining in the semidarkness to see. At some point, he had rolled onto his side, and to Korra he now appeared much more _sleeping_ than he seemed _unconscious_. Some of the color had come back to his face. Except for some thick black binding on his bare shoulder there was no indication that anything had gone wrong at all. The healers had done their job well.

Caution turned to curiosity and Korra sat as she had earlier on the side of the bed, staring and trying to piece together what had happened, trying to reconcile Lin's report with the building collapse and subsequent madness. Her mind would not cooperate. She was too tired. She yawned and stretched, and without thinking she lay down, a comfortable distance between her back and his front. She was asleep in seconds.

* * *

Korra woke without waking and lay in comfortable warmth. She dared not open her eyes: She was too tired and knew that once did she would not be able to drift off again. Her body felt heavy and sluggish, her mind in an exhausted daze. Drowsy, she nestled in to the warmth and reached instinctively to pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

There was no blanket.

She remembered.

This was the second time she had woke with Bolin's arm around her middle. It was the second time they had shared a bed. But it was the first time that it felt _strange_. It was the first time that his bare skin was touching hers. Whether by accident or by choice, his hand had found its way beneath her shirt and rested lazily on her stomach. Startled, she reached to remove it.

"Mmm, Opal."

Korra froze, her hand on his, and listened. There could be no mistaking it; he had talked in a voice that seemed not his own, low and hoarse and intensely quiet. As she lay, breath held tight, she could feel his lightly calloused fingers moving slowly and purposelessly in lazy circles around her middle.

_He thinks I'm Opal,_ she thought sleepily, and then hopeful, she rolled about to face him. "Bo—" the word caught fast in her throat. His face was closer than she had thought, so close that their noses were nearly touching, but his eyes remained undoubtedly closed.

"Opal," he murmured again in the same quiet, husky voice, "I'm sorry." His fingers traced goosebumps up her arm. "I'm so sorry." His hand was on her face.

_He thinks I'm Opal, _Korra thought again, and this time the idea came with more urgency. A wave of pure panic washed over her, cut through the drowsiness and rooted her body to the spot. Should she wake him? Would he even wake if she tried? Would he even know what he was doing?

Racked with indecision, she did not act in time.

The kiss itself did not come as a surprise, but the feeling of it did. Warm and soft and altogether pleasant, it was over in an instant that left Korra stupefied. A long silence remained.

"You're not Opal."

Korra's eyes popped open. The room remained dark, but she could see that Bolin's eyes had opened as well. They remained heavy lidded and shuttered. "No, I'm not," she replied gently, and somehow the shock she had felt moments before had gone. There remained no more anxiety, only relief and gratitude that he'd awakened at all. She didn't flinch or pull away as his hand began to explore her face, touching her forehead, drawing one finger down her nose. He moved as though underwater, slow but deliberate.

"You didn't feel like Opal," he said, and then a slow half-smile crept onto his face, a bashful and mildly ashamed smile. It faded after only a moment. "You're Korra." He tapped her pointedly between the collarbones. He had sounded proud of his declaration.

A shred of worry crept up on Korra then, and her own tired smile faded. Something was wrong here even despite the good. There was something in the way Bolin moved, something in the dreamlike quality of his voice that unnerved her. There was a distance in his eyes, a thickness in his speech. It was a quality well beyond _off_. It felt as though she was talking to a child. She felt her brow knit with concern, and Bolin touched it.

"Don't make that face," he slurred, and then he paused for a long time until Korra relaxed. "Did I kiss you?"

"You did."

The slow smile came back, his fingers continued their tender exploration. "I'm sorry. I think I hit my head."

Korra nodded. An unexpected lump had developed in her throat that made the words hard to say. She felt her eyes growing suddenly quite warm. With a deep breath and a hard swallow, she said, "There was an accident."

But Bolin shook his head very slowly. He closed his eyes. "It wasn't an accident."

So he remembered.

When he opened his eyes again his expression had gone quite grave, burdened by something that Korra could not understand. "There was a man," he started, but then he shook his head again and fell into silence, almost as if he had forgotten what he was going to say. "Everything hurts," he groaned. "Everything's blurry."

The lump grew. Korra could feel tears welling in her eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Do you know what's happening? Do you know what you're doing?"

Bolin looked back at her emptily. He had gone expressionless again, looked exceptionally tired. Korra finally pinpointed the _off quality_ as some kind of delirium.

Korra closed her eyes tight against the tears and turned her head away, but Bolin caught her gently by the chin and drew her back. Then his hand was on her cheek, his thumb brushing the moisture away. He looked confused again until she gave a great sniffle and rubbed at her own eyes, stifling the emotion. Once she regained her composure, his confusion seemed to go.

For a while they lay in the brittle silence of predawn hours. Korra watched him carefully, marking the changes in his expression as he thought, and he absently continued to caress her arm with his fingertips, slowly moving up and down, up and down, so much that the motion seemed to be automatic, so much that it had ceased to give her goosebumps. But then he stopped with his hand on her wrist as if a thought had suddenly come to him, and he looked at Korra with a profound sadness.

"I'm not going to remember this, am I?"

It had been the first truly self-aware thing he had said since waking, though his face gave no indication that the clarity was genuine. He still looked tired, sick, and altogether confused. The dreamy tone in his voice persisted. Only now he sounded sad as well.

The lump came back with force, and Korra shook her head, unable to respond. Her eyes filled with moisture once more.

"If I won't remember," Bolin uttered pensively, and his hand began moving again. This time he did not follow her arm. This time his hand traced the contour of her hips, dipped into the small of her back, brushed against her spine and all the way up to her neck. The whole while his gaze stayed low. But then he looked up again, and his tired eyes confessed a desire that set a flutter in Korra's stomach. Suddenly she remembered the South Pole, the conversation that they had had the morning after his bending came back. "If I won't remember," his voice had gone back to the same throaty whisper he had used when he first woke. "Then let me…Just once…" As he spoke he moved toward her again, this time quite slowly, as though he was afraid she might disappear. But Korra stayed, teary-eyed and startled by his sudden boldness. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up.

This time the kiss was different. Full of purpose and intention, it sent a shock of cold electricity from her head to her toes and filled her with a tingling warmth from her toes to her head. She could not be sure when his hand had found its way back to her cheek, but she could feel the blushing of her skin as he made contact, the cold-but-hot rush of blood to her face as his mouth parted ever slightly beneath hers. For a single passionate moment, it lingered. Then it was through. Silence remained.

"I think I loved you once," Bolin sighed, his nose still touching hers, and he drew his thumb delicately over her lips. "But I can't remember."

As if to punctuate his idea he kissed her again but gentler, barely enough to touch and release, and a second shock of electricity shot through her. Just as it reached her toes, he pulled away.

At some point Korra had begun to cry. She could feel the wetness on her cheeks. Her vision swam. It had all been wrong, she thought, none of this should have happened. She shouldn't be here.

"Why are you crying? Was it bad?"

Against all instinct, Korra burst into tears. She wanted to say "No," but the word would not come. She wanted to reassure him that it was not the kiss itself that had made her cry, but its implications, the consequences, the thoughts he'd left unfelt and unsaid for years. It was her own feeling of sudden overwhelming guilt. It was her own fear. Instead, between sobs she cried, "I want the old Bolin back!"

To her surprise, Bolin's mouth twitched in the slightest smile, a smile of understanding and acceptance, of resignation. He wrapped his arm around her once again and drew her in, all romantic intention apparently forgotten, and held her close as she wept. He cradled her head in his hand and stroked her hair as if to comfort a child, and when he spoke she could feel his lips brushing against her forehead. "Don't cry," he whispered. "It'll be okay." He paused, and a sad, sleepy tone entered his voice. "I won't remember any of this," he said. "It'll be like a dream."

Korra sobbed again.

"Don't cry," he repeated. "It was a good dream."


	14. Connections

Mako woke to a gentle nudge, a whisper he couldn't understand, and another nudge. Someone was tugging persistently on his arm and their voice carried a hint of panic. With every intention of telling whomever it was to go away and let him sleep, he groaned in reply.

"No! You've got to get up!"

The voice came in clearly this time, and Mako recognized it at once. It wasn't Bingwei, it wasn't any of his squadmates. It was Toru.

"Come on!"

Mako opened his eyes and stared at her. His head hurt. He felt vaguely sick. He recalled the night prior, the odd movers and strange foods, and he noted a significant emptiness in his stomach. Everything up until Guan's speech had been clear as day in his mind, but anything that came after had gone utterly blank.

"What happened?" Mako grumbled. As he sat he groped about his head. "Where am I?"

"In the commons. You fell asleep here."

"What are you doing here?"

"Making sure you don't get in trouble."

When Mako looked to Toru she had put on a pleasant smile, an expression that indicated that everything she'd said had been genuine. Last time he'd seen her had been hectic and slightly frightening. It had been during his quarantine at the Boiling Rock, shortly after he woke from the explosion. She had given him a key, told him to look around, and advised him that a meeting would be taking place in which his fate would be discussed. He hadn't seen Toru at all after that.

"What happened?" Mako said again, and this time he felt more urgency and the slightest indignation. "What…Why am I here? Where is my shirt?"

"I'll explain as we go. Follow me."

Toru pulled at his arm again, and Mako rose from the lounge upon which he'd apparently fallen asleep. It took all his effort to stay on his feet; his legs were wobbly and weak, as though he'd run a million miles. His whole body racked with fatigue.

"Where are we going?"

"First, to get you dressed," she explained. "Then you're due for training."

"And why are you here?"

Toru rounded on Mako then, and stared at him with a hard expression. "I'm here on the arm of His Excellency, but…" she paused and looked down. "Well…That's not important. You're here. And I'm here. And we're going to work together."

Confused, Mako continued to follow her. "So," he said thoughtfully and slowly, hoping he wouldn't upset her. "What happened?"

"You were with the men last night," Toru explained gently. "Enjoying the company of some of the captive women. Well, the rest of them were. You were having none of it."

Mako felt a heat rush into his face. "What now?"

"You're a man of real moral fiber," Toru said with a genuine smile. Mako could hear it in her voice. "There was a lovely young girl who wanted to…Well, you told her no, and that she should go get a real job, and that she needed to put some clothes on, and then when she got upset you left."

Mako's face screwed up. He was confused. He remembered none of this interaction whatsoever. Further, he wasn't certain if he should be more embarrassed that he'd declined a strange girl's invitation or angry that he'd been put in such a situation to begin with. "How do you know all of this?"

"I was there," Toru replied flatly. "I watched it happen."

They had stopped outside of the door to Mako's apartment, and he stared at her appraisingly. On a better day, he might have tried harder to understand the implications of her words. On a better day, he might have been able to read between the lines. Everything about her from her tone of voice to her body language to the way she was tiptoeing around the point suggested that she was either ashamed or guilty or embarrassed.

She motioned for him to open the door, and Mako complied.

"Go get dressed. You should've been given a second uniform. We can worry about finding the other half of this one later. Now hurry up."

Again, Mako complied. As he did so, he recognized the automacity of his motions, the way he responded to such orders without question or hesitation. He'd done the same with Bingwei yesterday. He'd done the same ever since he'd gotten off the boat from the Boiling Rock. The same wave of self-doubt he'd felt the day prior hit him again. He wondered if the fact that his compliance had become so instinctive was motivated by something more than the need to survive. He wondered if he was doing the right thing. Yes, he decided as he pulled on his shirt, this was right. This was the correct move. Gain intelligence and get back to Beifong.

But what was Toru doing there? She'd said that she had been watching, that she had been a part of whatever festivities had happened the night before. Mako stood for a long time in his empty apartment with his hands atop the chest of drawers from which he'd pulled his spare uniform, staring hard at the wood and willing his sluggish mind to think.

It hit him all at once.

When Mako left the bedroom he did so with purpose. When he approached Toru in the sitting room where she stood staring out the balcony window, he spoke as gently as his current mood would allow. To his dismay, it wasn't as gentle as he would have liked.

"They used you," he said curtly. "Last night."

Toru said nothing.

"And me? I was supposed to… Last night when they…" Mako stammered for a moment, his brain lagging far behind his mouth. "What's going on here? What kind of place is this?"

This time, Toru turned around, and the same sad smile she'd worn since the day Mako had first laid eyes on her returned to her face. "Everyone has a place in His Excellency's Society," she said coolly, "even me. I can reassure you that my role isn't what you think."

An anger welled up inside Mako that he'd not felt before, and indignation and embarrassment and horror all rolled into one gut-wrenching emotion. He groped for words for moment that felt like forever, but suddenly it seemed that there were too many thoughts in his head trying to come out all at once. He couldn't decide what to say first.

Instead, Toru spoke quietly. "Everyone has their place," she said again. "And now that you're a member of the elite, you have yours, too."

"But you said you were his fiancée!"

"I was," Toru said. "I was. But you see, that was before."

"Before what?" Mako roared. And then he stopped, uncertain of why he was angry with her at all. In the greater scheme of things, if what he believed was correct, he was in the much better position. After a long pause, he said quietly, "I'm sorry. I just don't understand what's going on, and I don't understand what you're doing here, and I'm confused."

Toru smiled again, and this time it seemed genuine. "I know," she said gently. "There isn't enough time for me to explain everything right now, but there will be time later. For now, I've got to get you to the yard so that you can take your place with the others. You're already late, and it won't do to have you in trouble on your first real day."

Toru's smile widened, and she walked past Mako toward the door. She opened it and gestured him into the hallway.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Because you're different."

Mako didn't press the point. Instead, he followed quietly as Toru led him out of the apartment, past the commons, and out the front door. She spoke quietly as she walked.

"You're going to go train with your old squadmates today," Toru said, "and then you'll return to your apartments tonight." She stopped and turned around. Beyond, Mako could see the open courtyard. Bingwei was there, yelling, and behind him stood only three of his old squad: Yaozhu, Fa, and Jing. Yaozhu waved timidly at Mako. "Mako?" Toru prompted. "Tonight you have a choice. You can partake with the men or retire to your room. Say you're staying in, and then meet me in the commons at midnight. We can talk in private."

Mako nodded, and Toru left without another word. Though Bingwei and the others gave him strange and skeptical looks as he took his place beside them, no one said anything about her presence nor why he had been late, and Mako took that as a blessing.

He spent the rest of his day with Bingwei and his squad, and by lunch time felt significantly better, both physically and emotionally. Perhaps it was because he'd had the chance to think about his conversation with Toru, about what she had said about his behavior the night prior, and though she'd left him with even more questions, particularly about potential human rights abuses, he couldn't help but look forward to getting some answers and explanation. There had to be a reason for all of this.

The training was not difficult, not even for Yaozhu and the rest. Mako had assumed that he would be learning how to yell, how to command, and how to generally mistreat his charges as Bingwei had done when they first arrived. Instead, they focused on items of a more tactical nature, on building trust and understanding of one another and their unique abilities. Bingwei had explained this as preparation for the mission, and had refused to elaborate.

Adding to Mako's decent mood was the knowledge that his squad had fared relatively well in his absence, short as it may have been. He never thought that he would miss them, but now he was surrounded by their familiar faces Mako felt a comfort that he sorely needed. More, as he learned about each of them he felt able to empathize, to understand their motivation for participating in this poor excuse for a society. He already knew, in part, that they were acting out of the need to preserve themselves and their safety. But he also learned that each of them had a larger stake in the operation. Yaozhu was seeking honor and status among his tribe of combustion benders. Fa's family had been threatened outright, and it seemed that his willingness to follow orders came of his desire to save them. Jing had no family that he ever mentioned and as large as he was Mako could see no real benefit to have him along physically, but the more Jing spoke, the more Mako recognized his brilliance. He was thoughtful and more than capable of strategizing, which he demonstrated over dinner. When the lot of them were presented with a hypothetical scenario, Jing had organized a solution within ten minutes which played perfectly to the others' strengths. But he lacked confidence, and Mako imagined that his participation was borne from his need to validate himself.

None of it was unreasonable.

Well after sundown, Bingwei dismissed Yaozhu, Fa, and Jing back to their dormitories and escorted Mako back to their own apartment, where they went their separate ways. Mako retired almost immediately to the showers—he still felt particularly dirty—and when he returned to his bedroom he lay on his bed in comfortable quiet. Bingwei returned after a time, explained briefly that he'd been in the kitchens, and then mentioned the possibility of going back down again later. Half dozed, Mako remembered his earlier conversation with Toru.

"I'm going to stay in," Mako said, sleepily. "You go ahead without me."

With a mischievous smile, Bingwei nodded. "I figured as much, a lightweight like you. Well, rest easy, then. We've got another long day tomorrow, and it won't be nearly as easy as today."

Then Bingwei left.

It took an hour of laying on his bed idly for Mako to begin feeling hungry, and when he exited to the kitchens he did so without much in the way of contemplation. The place was mostly empty except for a few older men who sat in a corner playing Pai Sho, and Mako took his dinner alone. He ate quickly, and once the food was gone he left.

Halfway to his room, a clarity struck him: He was alone with all the time in the world. The bunkhouse was mostly empty, or it seemed mostly empty. No one had spoken to him all night long. No one had even looked at him. It was as though he were invisible.

Perhaps he could explore.

All at once, Mako no longer felt a captive. All at once, he felt a detective, an investigator, an outsider taking a deep look into a world where he did not belong. It was in moments like this that he felt most comfortable, and now was no exception. When he reached the top of the stairs leading to his apartment he paused only briefly, and then headed the opposite direction.

Mako discovered immediately that the whole upper floor was symmetrical, with the same long hallway on one side as on the other and what he presumed to be apartments on each side. At the end of his hallway and the other were doors leading into the same common bathroom and shower facility. There were the same number of doors, the same décor. Everything was the same down to the color and style of the doorknobs.

If there was one thing Mako could glean from his exploration of the upstairs, it was that the society was more established than he'd thought. If each room housed two officers the same as his, and each officer was charged with the command of at least three other people, there were more than one hundred soldiers ready to deploy at any given point, and that was in his dormitory alone. There could be no telling how many similar housing units existed on this island. As he made his way downstairs, he promised himself that as soon as he was able he would explore beyond his dormitory and beyond the yard, would venture into places on the island he hadn't yet seen.

Mako's knowledge of the lower level of the dormitory had thus far been limited to the kitchens, and seemingly for good reason. This area was not as deserted as the upper level had been, and periodically he passed by older men in nicer uniforms who looked at him with skeptical and oftentimes angry expressions. Though it was arranged in much the same way as the upper level, the doors were sparse and many were guarded. It did not take long for him to turn around and head back to the foyer. He would have to pursue his search at a time when the building was empty.

For the rest of the night Mako lounged in the common area. He spent a long time watching men as they came and went, sometimes with food from the kitchens, sometimes with girls hanging on their arms, sometimes completely alone. When that grew tiring he lay back and listened, eyes closed, and drifted in and out of a very light sleep.

"You're here early."

Mako sat up, mildly startled, and looked about. Toru stood at the top of the stairs, staring at him kindly, and he found himself fighting unexpected nerves. "I figured I'd wait."

Toru approached, but did not sit. "I see. Shall we go somewhere private?"

Mako's face screwed up with confusion. Where could they go that was private?

"To your apartment," Toru prompted.

"But Bingwei told me that there was no privacy there," Mako protested. He hadn't been back to his apartment in a few hours. It was entirely possible that Bingwei was back, and if such was the case there would be no way to have a personal conversation. Bingwei had said so himself.

But Toru seemed undeterred. She grasped Mako by the hand and pulled at his arm. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it. But I can't stay here for long. Out in the open, I mean. Let's go."

As he led Toru back to his apartment, Mako's insides twisted with anxiety both good and bad. He would be getting answers to the questions he'd had for near two weeks, and would be getting them from a trustworthy source. But Toru's behavior was unusual. She seemed nervous. What she had said about not being able to stay out in the open had struck Mako as strange, but considering her status in the society, if it was as he believed, it wasn't necessarily surprising. More, the apprehension came from Toru's mere presence, her proximity, her touch, and Mako didn't know why.

A walk through the apartment confirmed that it was empty and Mako gestured for Toru to sit on one of the couches, but she did not. Instead, she made her way to the enormous windowed doors overlooking the yard, and she opened them to the balcony. Mako followed her out, and joined her in leaning against the railing, looking out.

"It's nice to get outside," Toru said gently. Now that Mako thought on the matter, everything about her seemed gentle. "I don't get to be outside often."

Mako didn't know how to respond. He said nothing.

"I suppose you want to get down to it, then, and I can't blame you. I promised you answers, and it's time for me to make good on that promise."

All the questions Mako had had bubbled to the surface. He didn't know which to ask first. There were too many. "Who are you?" Was the first thing that came out of his mouth, and as soon as he'd said it he felt slightly foolish.

But Toru just smiled. "You know my name, obviously," she began. "And you know that I'm from the Northern Water Tribe. My parents moved us to Republic City when I was three years old and I lived there for a while. I learned healing there."

"Why are you here?"

"My parents arranged for me to marry. I didn't think that political marriages existed any more, but they do, and mine was supposed to be that way. My parents traded me for power and money. But things weren't so bad for a while. I didn't mind. I wanted to help."

Again, Mako didn't know how to respond. He didn't even look at her. All he could do was stare out into the empty yard, watching the firelight flicker against the buildings from the beheaded fountain on the beach. He felt the slightest offense at her story, but it wasn't his place to comment.

"Guan used to treat me well," Toru continued, needing no prompting. "But then he lost his bending and things changed for the worst."

At this, Mako did respond as if on instinct. "Lost his bending?" he asked, an air of disbelief in his voice. He looked to Toru, but she didn't look back. She was still staring out at the night the same as he had been. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you'd know, being that you were in with the Avatar. He was a victim of the Equalist movement. He lost his bending. It was taken from him."

Dumbfounded, Mako stared. The Equalists had fallen apart so long ago he'd forgotten that they had ever existed. The whole event had had such a minimal impact on him that it didn't seem to matter, it didn't seem that he needed to remember it. But now he thought on the matter, Amon must have taken the abilities of countless benders, not just those at the revelation he attended with Korra. More striking than this, perhaps, was the realization that the leader of this firebending society was no longer a firebender himself. He was just as much a fraud as Amon had been, though certainly in a different way.

Toru sighed deeply. "He was never the same after that. He got angry, didn't have an outlet, and without his bending he was of no real use to his family. They were Triad, so nonbenders weren't of much use."

"I know," Mako said automatically. "I was Triad once, too." He looked back into the yard and dropped his chin onto his hand. "But that was a long time ago. Probably before you were even around."

Toru shrugged. "It doesn't matter now, I suppose."

"No, I suppose it doesn't."

For a while the quiet lingered, and for that time Mako was content. But the longer he stood there idly the more restless he felt. There were still questions. There was still information to be had, and he knew that he should take advantage of Toru as an informant while he was able.

"Why am I here?" Mako asked.

"If you want to think about it philosophically, it must be fate," Toru replied quietly. "The concrete answer is that you're a firebender, and you're valuable. Well, that's not entirely true. We didn't know who you were at first, but we had informants in Ba Sing Se who let us know that there were firebenders who needed liberation. We sent a quad of combustion benders..."

"What's a quad?"

"A group of four," Toru said, and the tone in her voice told Mako he should feel stupid for ever asking the question. "You've got your quad as well, and you'll go on missions with them soon."

"Oh," Mako grunted, and now he thought on the matter it made perfect sense. There would be no way for him to keep track of eight other people, not as a rookie captain. To have his squad split into halves was the only reasonable solution.

"We sent a quad of combustion benders to Ba Sing Se and set up the extraction," Toru continued, unfazed by Mako's contemplation, "and during its execution they noticed you. They brought you home with the other firebenders who were liberated that day."

"They blew up the upper ring!" Mako protested. "There was no _extraction_ there, just explosion!"

"And you should be glad. That explosion is the only reason you're here. My understanding is that you firebent it to protect Earth King Wu."

"He's _not_ the king."

Toru shrugged. "At any rate, it took a powerful bit of firebending to protect you and him from that blast. Our men saw you, and you were brought in and put under my care. That part was purely coincidence, you understand. Like I said, we didn't know who you were to begin with. It wasn't until I interviewed you and reported back to Guan that things got interesting. But I knew you were special from the start. I had a good feeling about you."

"You keep saying things like that," Mako said contemplatively, "that I'm different and that I'm special. What does that even mean?"

"It means exactly what you think it does. There's something about you that makes you stand apart from the others who I've worked with. Maybe it's kindness, maybe it's your willingness to defy. I don't know." Toru looked at him squarely, and Mako felt himself tense under her gaze. "I like you," she said flatly, "and I can't say that for the others. You're easy to talk to, and you listen. The others just fight or argue or order me around. They take advantage of me. You don't."

Mako felt self-conscious now. "Thanks?"

Toru giggled, and the anxiety in Mako's stomach swelled. It was a strange feeling that he couldn't place. His gut told him that something here was desperately wrong while his mind told him that all was well. But Toru's smile faded fast, and she said, "But you're different for Guan, too, not just for me. He did some digging on you and discovered your affiliation with the Triads."

"Former," Mako corrected. "Like I said, that was a long time ago."

"It doesn't matter. You're in, and there aren't many others who can say that. Guan is planning to send you back to Republic City to negotiate with the leaders of the Triads on his behalf, to pull them into the society and invite them to work alongside us. He wants them to act as our eyes and ears in the city. It's a very important task."

"He's sending me back to Republic City?" Mako echoed. He fought a sense of elation at the news. He'd be able to contact Beifong. He'd be able to tell her everything that had happened. And he'd be able to see Korra and Asami. He'd be able to see Bolin. "When do I go?"

"A week, two weeks, maybe. It'll depend on the strength of your quad," Toru said with a shrug. "I don't know the schedules, I just know the destination and that your mission was marked as vital. It's extremely risky. A lot of preparation has gone into your deployment."

"What do you mean, preparation?"

Toru looked to Mako with unmasked incredulity now, brows raised, eyes opened wide. Then her expression turned grave and with a tone of disbelief that he hadn't expected, she said, "I thought you knew."

"Thought I knew what?"

"About the preparations," Toru replied. Her voice contained some urgency now. "About your brother."

Mako's stomach dropped out. In the chaos of the days following his transfer he had almost forgotten the conversation he'd heard between Guan and his advisors in which they had discussed ways to do away with _the brother_. But he had done all he could. He had sent the letter, had communicated the risk to Beifong. There should have been protections in place. And considering the strength of Bolin's relationship with Opal, Mako reasoned that Beifong would pay close attention: He was practically part of their family by now.

But what if the letter never arrived? It had been a long shot to begin with. What if she hadn't received the warning? Could all this have happened so fast? It had only been a few days since he sent the letter. It had been just over a week since he arrived here. Hadn't it? Now that he thought on it, the time seemed a blur.

"Mako?"

The anxiety had come back with force, and Mako's whole body felt cold, his limbs numb. His stomach had tightened and his throat seemed to close. "What happened to my brother?" he asked in a deadly voice.

Toru stepped back. The urgency on her face had changed. She looked distinctly afraid, perhaps worried, maybe concerned. Mako couldn't really tell, and he didn't really care. She had information. He could see it in her reaction.

"What happened to Bolin?" Mako demanded again. A tremble had crept into his voice, a heaviness had taken residence in his chest, an overwhelming dread pressed down on him.

"I..." Toru stammered, her concern persisting through her voice, "I'm so sorry. I thought you knew."

Mako shouted now, "What happened to my little brother?"

By now Toru had backed up against the railing. Concern had turned to fear. "There were a few agents in the city," she said, her voice very quiet and very fast. "There were a few combustion benders in the underground awaiting orders. Guan has them everywhere, well mostly everywhere. They act as security, they carry out difficult tasks in hard-to-reach places. They work as special operatives."

"What did you do?" Mako put emphasis on every word.

"They brought down the building," Toru said vaguely. "It's all hearsay, I don't know exactly what happened, but I heard that they brought down the building he was in and...Well..."

Mako couldn't understand the words. Certainly he heard them, but they made no sense. Silence took hold while his mind worked to decode the message, the implication. Meaning would not register. He repeated Toru very quietly, very slowly, his eyes locked on her face. "They brought down the building," he uttered dumbly, all his anger gone, "while he was in it."

"I'm so sorry," Toru repeated. "I thought you knew."

Mako leaned against the railing not of contemplation, but of necessity. His legs seemed unable to hold his weight. Words wouldn't come into his brain. He stared at the ground for a time, struggling to comprehend, and then with enormous effort he said, "Are you trying to tell me that my little brother is dead?"

Toru nodded. The motion was short, scarcely more than a twitch, but it was all Mako needed. The idea exploded in his mind. They hadn't received the letter. They hadn't provided the extra protection. His message hadn't been received in time. Bolin had been attacked. Bolin had been killed.

Bolin was dead.

"Mako?"

He didn't hear Toru speaking and didn't see her approach. His eyes had locked on the ground and his mind racked with incomprehension. There was no way. It couldn't be true. Bolin wouldn't have gone like that. He would've bent the rock around him. He would have protected himself. He'd done it a thousand times. But if he didn't have footing, if he couldn't ground himself... Mako knew enough about earthbending to understand its limitations. There would be no drawing forth the rock if there was no contact with the ground.

"Mako?"

Tiny spots of darkness crawled around his vision. Toru touched his arm so tenderly that he scarcely felt the connection. Everything was numb, his legs had gone to jelly and he slumped to the ground. He couldn't breathe. A silent hysteria had come upon him that he couldn't begin to bury. All he could do was sit and stare and hold his breath.

Mako woke up on the ground.

"You scared me."

He looked up to find Toru closer than she had been before. Somehow she was cradling his head in her lap, was holding him at least partially off of the cold concrete of the balcony. She wore a look of pity.

"You fainted," she said, and she put her hand softly on his cheek. Her skin felt warm to the touch. A sheen of cold sweat covered his whole body. "I tried to catch you, but..."

Mako felt his eyes go very wide as the haze of unconsciousness faded. His mind was catching up to reality. He remembered what she had said. "No," he whispered, and the piteous look on Toru's face deepened. "No!" He fought to sit upright, but Toru held him down, her hands firmly on his shoulders. The hysteria was coming back, and this time it wasn't quiet. This time it was violent and overpowering and uncontrollable. Mako's head was swimming, his mind was stuck focused on one unfathomable and unacceptable truth. Bolin was gone. He was dead. He had died alone. It could have been horrible: He could have suffocated. He could have been crushed by the weight of the building. If a combustion bender had attacked him straight on, he could have been burned to death or worse. Mako imagined the remains, and his body gave a mighty jerk against Toru's grip, but she held on tighter, bent over him and wrapped him in her arms.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I'm so, so sorry."

"No," Mako said. It was the only word that would come to him. It was the only word he could force past the lump in his throat. "No."

"I thought you knew. You shouldn't have found out like this. I'm so sorry."

"No," Mako said again. His face had grown very hot, but his skin remained so cold that goosebumps sprang all up and down his arms. His body felt both immovably heavy and filled with unmanageable energy. For a while he tried to suppress it and for a while he succeeded, but then his body started to tremble. At once he clapped his hands over his face and broke.

Toru held him close while he cried, and Mako didn't care. She said nothing and moved only to draw him in. She stayed curled over him, her arms around his shoulders, and he pressed his face into her middle to muffle his noise. Eventually he found himself laying there with his eyes closed, and all the tension and anxiety and grief he had felt was replaced with an emptiness so complete that he felt it would swallow him whole.

He hoped it would swallow him whole.

"It's late," Toru whispered. "Let's get you inside." She straightened and wrapped her arm round Mako's shoulders to help him sit upright.

But Mako could only sit and stare at his feet, unthinking and unfeeling, and she allowed him to stay that way for a while. When she pulled him to his feet and ushered him toward his bed, he moved along with her. She mentioned briefly that she was glad he had already changed out of his uniform, but Mako barely registered that she had spoken. She sat him on the bedroom chair, fussed with his bed, and then helped him to it. He sat in the quiet as she situated the blankets around him, and then she moved to leave.

"Don't go," Mako said. His voice sounded flat and listless, the words seemed to have floated out of him without thinking. "Don't leave."

Toru rounded back on him, and the look she gave him filled the emptiness with a dull jolt that sat in his belly like a rock that grew ever more dense with each step she took toward him. Then she sat and the rock shattered into a jumble of conflicting emotions. He felt empty but full. Warm but cold. Destroyed but somehow intact, as though her very presence was holding him together. What else did he have? Who else did he have?

Bolin was gone, and he was all Mako had. His extended family was too far removed to really matter. For a fleeting moment, he considered Korra and he considered Asami, but when he considered them together he recognized that there would be no room for him. He wondered if they even thought of him. He wondered if they had moved on with their lives, believing that he himself was gone. Yes, he'd be going to Republic City, but how would he be able to face anyone? How would they react knowing the truth of his absence? Had he been in Republic City he could've helped, could've prevented Bolin from...

Mako's breath caught in his throat, and he pressed his face into his pillow as another wave of grief came over him. He forced himself to breathe deep, hold the inhale, breathe out. But when Toru touched his shoulder he broke again. She murmured at him quietly, in a voice that was altogether motherly, repeating words that Mako neither heard nor understood. But somehow it calmed him. It comforted him, and more than ever he would accept that comfort without question.

She was still there when he fell asleep.


	15. Anxiety

The days immediately following the collapse passed in a blur of confusion and panic. Korra spent as little time in Bolin's room as she possibly could, leaving immediately the following morning when the White Lotus sentries arrived under the excuse that she needed to go speak to Lin at police headquarters. It wasn't entirely true, but Korra didn't care. She just needed some space. She needed some time to think. She needed some sleep.

When she arrived at Air Temple Island she retired to an unusually long bath, during which she contemplated the night prior and decided that it had been wholly terrifying. It had been surreal. It had been unnerving, uncanny. There was no doubt that Bolin hadn't been in his right mind, and that truth had been frightening. There had been something altogether inhuman about him. More, of sound mind he never would have done something so brash. He never would have touched her the way that he had. He never would have kissed her. While he had always been outgoing, he had never been quite so _forward_.

But somewhere amid the terror there remained the slightest warmth, and every time she thought about what had happened it spread a little more. The whole interaction had felt both entirely wrong yet somehow reassuring. He had waked, had spoken, had been able to put together words in a way that was coherent enough, and that was more than she ever expected. The kiss hadn't been bad either. Honestly, it might have been pleasant in a different time and under different circumstances. It had been supremely romantic, if nothing else, and in her wildest imagination Korra never thought Bolin to be capable of that.

As she lay down to nap, she felt vaguely jealous of Opal.

She spent the remainder of that afternoon well away from the hospital. Lin came to call shortly after noon, and together the two of them made their way to Avatar Aang Memorial Island where they exhumed the platinum box and transported it to police headquarters. Much to Korra's surprise, Lin didn't open it.

"I'm going to have some healers come in to see what they can do with the remains. I spoke with someone over at the hospital about it, and they said that they might be able to help."

"Oh," Korra replied, downcast. It wasn't that she was looking forward to seeing whatever lump of flesh remained in the casket. She just wanted to know the truth as soon as possible. "Did you get anything out of the combustion bender?"

Lin shook her head. "He won't crack," she said icily. "Says he's not afraid of me or anything I can do. I don't know how to get him to talk."

Korra sighed deeply. "Doesn't that kind of prove his guilt?"

With a shrug, Lin said, "The fact that he was in that room at all says something. There isn't a hospital in the whole city that's ever employed a combustion bender. They're too rare. Nobody in the whole building could identify him or explain how he might've gotten in or how he got the uniform. I've got no records on him at all. Don't even know his name."

"Do you have anything at all? About any of this?"

"Not really. Nothing new since yesterday, and we probably won't have anything until either Bolin starts making sense or that combustion bender starts talking."

Korra's stomach jerked. "Until Bolin starts making sense?" She wondered if he had said something about last night. The panic started bubbling again.

"I was up there with Tenzin before I came to get you. The kid woke up for an hour or so and wasn't talking straight. He was just babbling all kinds of nonsense and not much of it was grounded in reality. Told Tenzin he looked like a flying hog monkey in his wingsuit and kept insisting that I'm the reason his arm is all banged up. I mean, he was pleasant; he seemed pretty happy to be insulting us, all things considered. But it was clear he didn't have the slightest idea what he was saying."

"Is he okay?"

Again, Lin shrugged. "Depends on what you mean by okay. He's alive. He's awake. He can move everything. He can clearly talk, not that that's ever been an issue for him. He knows his numbers, Opal was quizzing him all morning. He's not right, though. Not yet. He's slow." Then Lin shrugged and added haplessly, "Slower than usual, anyway."

"What does he remember?" Korra was going to press this point. She figured that Lin was safe, that if Bolin had said anything to her she wouldn't read too far into it. Lin was objective. Lin didn't care who kissed whom.

But Lin's face screwed up. Korra couldn't tell if she looked irate or confused. "How am I supposed to know?" she asked gruffly. "The hardest question he answered today was what number comes after nine, and he could barely focus on that much. He'll be having a perfectly reasonable conversation about how he's doing, about how he's feeling, and the next minute he's telling me all the irresponsible things he and Opal have done together, and thank goodness Su wasn't there for that mess. He says anything that comes to mind, no matter how ridiculous it is. His brain isn't connected to his mouth, and even if it was you can barely understand him."

"He didn't say anything, then?"

"What are you going on about?" Lin snapped, and Korra knew now that she was getting frustrated. "Did something happen? Did he say something to you?"

Korra felt her eyes widen at this, felt the color drain from her face. It seemed Lin noticed this as well, as she gave Korra a deadly look that said in no uncertain terms that if she didn't speak, Lin would force it out of her. "He woke up for a little bit last night," Korra said carefully. "He... He told me he thought he hit his head and I told him he'd been in an accident. He said that it wasn't an accident." She paused and Lin's expression softened. Korra continued, "I asked him what he remembered, I thought maybe he'd have something to say, but all he told me was that there was a man. Then he stopped like he forgot what he was talking about and told me that he couldn't see and that everything hurt."

"Can't imagine why." Lin paused then for a beat, then breathed deeply. She took on the same tender tone she'd used the night prior when she and Korra were alone. "Look, I've got to head back up there to let the healers know we've got the body." She said this as though there was some extra meaning. She looked at Korra as though inviting her along.

Korra just slumped. "I don't know. I don't think I'm ready to go back there yet," she said, and the admission wasn't a lie. She wasn't ready to see Bolin. She wasn't sure how he would react if he was even awake. She wasn't sure how she would react. She felt enough anxiety just _thinking_ about being in the same room as him.

"Fine with me, I guess. If you need something to do you can always go down to the site and see what you can find. I've had metalbenders down there most of the morning but they haven't gotten back to me with anything."

"Maybe."

Lin escorted Korra from the precinct, and the two went their separate ways.

For a while, Korra contemplated a trip to the site of the collapse, but no matter how much she thought on it she couldn't see how it would benefit anyone. What could she possibly find that would help? Lin had already said that evidence of explosions had been found. What more would there be? Crushed stones? Bent metal? Bolin's blood?

Korra went back to Air Temple Island and spent the rest of the day alone. She tried to meditate, but couldn't focus. She tried to train, but her body felt sluggish. She ate a small dinner with Pema and then retired to bed.

Next morning, Tenzin roused Korra urgently, and for a moment Korra thought she was dreaming of the night he told her about Bolin. In the same way as he had that night, he explained that Lin had phoned and that they were to meet at the hospital. But when Korra questioned him on the matter, bleary-eyed and sleepy, he couldn't answer. He didn't know what was going on either. He only said it sounded important.

Tenzin's urgency had frightened Korra so much that she didn't stop to think about the fact that she would be in proximity to Bolin, not until they met Asami at the hospital's front entrance. As they made their way toward his room, Asami barraged Tenzin with questions: What was the matter? Was Bolin okay? Had something else happened? She seemed distraught and explained that when she had come to visit over dinner last night everything had seemed fine-or fine enough considering the circumstance.

Lin met them outside Bolin's door.

"Glad you made it so quick," Lin said, and then she poked her head into Bolin's room and called for Opal and Su to join them. Korra could hear them speaking through the open door, and when Bolin protested Opal leaving, a knot came into her stomach. A few moments later the two Beifongs emerged, and Lin began to explain. "There's good news and bad news," she said curtly. "The good news is that the body we buried isn't Mako."

Korra looked about to read the surprised expressions of the rest. Lin had said the words so plainly, with so little fanfare that their bluntness almost hurt. She might've expected them to look happy or that she would feel happy herself, but there seemed to be nothing of the kind in anyone's face. They just looked confused. She said, "The healers worked quick, then."

"The healers haven't touched it," Lin snapped. Then she reached into the pouch on her hip and produced a small rolled note, which she unfolded and handed to Korra. "I got this letter from a beat cop first thing this morning. He said it came from an Earth Nation ship that docked last night and whose crew passed through a Republic City checkpoint. Was attached to the leg of a Fire Nation hawk. It's a shame we didn't get it sooner, it could've prevented a lot of headache."

Korra read aloud, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I'm alive. Boiling Rock quarantine, moved to Fire Fountain City. Military camp. Protect Firelord. Protect lavabender." She looked to Lin with a face full of realization and handed back the letter. "It's from Mako?"

Lin shrugged haplessly. "I'd know his sloppy handwriting anywhere. It was addressed to the Republic City police. Who else would do something like that? Besides, who else really knows about Bolin's lavabending? I've already contacted the Firelord and advised her to step up security, but she's already fairly well protected and hasn't seen any action out of the ordinary. Explains a lot that's been happening around here lately, though."

"You think Mako knew that Bolin was going to be attacked?" Asami asked, a genuine curiosity in her voice. "Do you think he sent that letter as warning?"

"I'm absolutely certain of it, not that we know why," Lin replied. "Like I said, it would've been more useful if we had gotten it a few days ago. Anyway, the damage has already been done here so there's not much else to do besides get that combustion bender to spill."

"We should tell Bolin," Opal said. "Now that we know the truth, we ought to let him know."

"The only thing this letter tells us is that Mako survived Ba Sing Se," Lin reasoned. "Doesn't mean he's alive now. Doesn't mean we know where he is. We have no idea when he might have written this. We ought to keep our quiet here until we've got facts."

No one argued the point, not even Opal, and Korra wasn't sure if it was because they had gotten tired of the matter or because they agreed with Lin. She wasn't sure how she felt about it herself.

"I want to arrange a flyover of these places," Lin said, "but it'll take some time to get everything settled. Until then, I suppose we sit tight and wait."

"It's going to be hard to keep this from him," Asami said flatly, and she looked at the closed door. Then she looked to Lin coldly. "Do you really think it's for the best to keep this a secret?"

"You can walk in there and tell him anything you want right now," said Lin sardonically, and she actually motioned toward the door, "he's not going to understand a word you say. You know that as much as I do. Bolin needs to focus on healing, not on running off to the end of the world on the off chance that he'll find his brother. Trust me, Asami, I've thought long and hard about this. We tell Bolin that there's a chance he'll find Mako and he'd _walk_ to the Fire Nation if he had to, and he can't even walk to the bathroom on his own right now. We don't know that Mako is still there. We don't know that he's alive at all. We could go investigate these places and find out that they're abandoned, that they were temporary camps, and even if they're occupied, who's to say Mako will still be there? We tread lightly until we've got something concrete."

Now Opal did speak, and she did so with quiet conviction. "We should take him when we go."

"We?" Su asked. She had sounded skeptical.

"Of course I'm going," Opal said. "And we're going to take Bolin with us."

"He's not going anywhere right now," Lin said.

"No," Opal replied, her voice full of attitude, "but you just said it would take time for the arrangements to be made with Firelord Izumi, didn't you? We give him enough time to heal and he can come with."

"It's not a bad idea," said Tenzin thoughtfully and all eyes turned to him. His gaze was locked on Lin. "After everything you told me, it seems like all he wants to do is find answers. Perhaps tagging along on this investigation will help him feel like he's doing something. It'll give him purpose."

Lin just shrugged.

"I don't think it'll hurt either," Su agreed. "Once he's got his head back we ought to tell him that Korra, Asami, and Opal are going to follow a lead you got-we don't need to tell him _where_ you got it-and that they want him to tag along. He won't care about details, and it might encourage him to get well faster. What do you think, Korra?"

To this point Korra had remained intentionally silent. What could she say to all of this? That she didn't want to go? That she didn't want him to go? Even if she said it out loud she'd have no good reason to back it up. Even Tenzin had said that Bolin ought to go with. There would be no way to convey her feelings on the matter without it seeming like something was wrong, and up to now she had done an incredibly good job of concealing her apprehension. At least, she thought she had.

"Korra?" Asami prompted, and she touched her hand to Korra's elbow.

"Yeah!" Korra said at once and with perhaps too much enthusiasm in her tone. "I think that's a good idea."

She regretted at once that she had said it. An awkward silence told her that the words had come out wrong.

"I'd like you to come by the station, Korra," Lin said after a few moments. "I want you to take a crack at the combustion bender."

"When?" Korra asked. She had to work hard to make certain her voice remained neutral. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had.

"Later tonight is fine, after the dinner hour. You can stay here and visit for a while. I'll try to get some calls in until then." She looked at Tenzin pointedly. "I could use your help for the diplomacy, if you don't mind."

Tenzin nodded curtly, and he followed Lin away down the hall.

Once Tenzin and Lin had gone, the mood in the hallway seemed to change for the better. Almost at once, Asami perked up and said that she had planned to stay for a while anyway, and that they could keep Bolin company if Opal and Su wanted a break. Predictably, Opal refused to go anywhere, but Su seemed very slightly relieved at the idea. Moments later, Opal and Asami had disappeared into the room, and Korra lagged awkwardly behind.

"Hey," Su said. She caught Korra by the shoulder. "Are you all right?" Su looked unconvinced when Korra put on her best fake smile. She raised an eyebrow. "You seem a little preoccupied. Don't get so caught up in this that you stop taking care of yourself."

The smile turned genuine, and Korra said, "I won't. Thanks, Su."

"You kids have fun," Su said, and it seemed to Korra that all her skepticism had gone. "I'll be back in a while with some dinner."

With a wave, she left.

Korra stood alone in the hallway and stared at the door. She didn't want to go in there. She didn't want to see Bolin as she had two nights ago, all delirious and deathly pale. She didn't want to listen to him rambling incoherently about whatever came into his mind, as Lin said he had been doing. But most of all, she didn't want to think about the fact that he had kissed her, especially not with both Asami and Opal in the room to hear about it if her presence jogged his memory. But again, it seemed there was no way out. Asami and Opal would be curious, if not outright upset, if Korra didn't join them soon. So she breathed deep three times, steeled herself against the mounting nervousness, and entered the room.

The nerves melted away at once when she saw the delighted expression on Bolin's face.

"Korra!"

She just stood there dumbly.

"That is Korra, isn't it?" Bolin had leaned over and spoken in an undertone to Asami. The same confused expression that Korra remembered had come to his face, but that was really the only thing about him that was the same. Though still pale, his color had begun come back. His speech was mostly coherent and lacked the dreamy tone, but it retained a slight rasp and was not nearly as strong as usual. He spoke slowly, uncertainly. "I mean...That _is_ Korra, right?"

"It's Korra," Asami laughed, and then she beckoned Korra over as well.

"I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up," Bolin said, and he threw his arms wide as Korra approached. She noted a distinct weakness in his right arm. It moved slower, had less range of motion than the left. "I thought you forgot about me!"

"I didn't forget about you," Korra said kindly, a sincere grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. How _could_ she have forgotten about him? It seemed she could barely stop thinking about him, could barely stop panicking about what had happened. As soon as she was within arm's reach he pulled her onto the bed and wrapped her in an embrace so tight that she was forced to hold her breath, and a chill ran down her spine. Then he let her go.

"I thought we could play some Pai Sho," Asami said brightly, and she dug in her bag to produce the board, which she brandished at Bolin. "We can play doubles."

He looked at Opal, concerned, as though he wanted to ask her if he remembered how to play or if he even knew what Pai Sho was. But she smiled at him and gave the slightest jerk of her head, and he turned back to Asami and nodded as well.

"Sit up, then" Asami said, and she patted Bolin's leg. "We need some room."

He complied, though the movement required some tremendous effort, and as he pulled himself toward the headboard he grimaced and Korra could hear the softest groan. But then he was fully upright, his legs crossed beneath the blanket, and he looked between Opal and Asami. His face fell almost immediately. "Why am I sitting up, again?"

"Pai Sho," Asami said frankly, and she shot a knowing glance to Opal. But Opal just shrugged, and Asami lay the board in the middle of the blanket. Then she nudged Bolin's arm as if to tell him to move over, but recoiled immediately when he jerked away. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I forgot!"

For a few moments after, Bolin sat with a pained expression, bent low with his left hand clutching his right shoulder. Then he inhaled deep, exhaled slowly, and righted himself again. Though a slightly anguished look remained on his face, he didn't say a word about it. As if nothing at all had happened, he moved laboredly to his left and Asami sat down beside him.

"Really, I'm sorry," Asami said, and she rubbed at his back lightly. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you too badly, did I?"

"Don't worry about it," Bolin replied, and all the joy seemed to have gone out of his voice. He hadn't sounded sad, per se, but he certainly wasn't happy about it either. "I've hurt it more times in the last..." He stopped suddenly, as if he had forgotten what he was about to say, and a look of purest concentration came to him. Then he looked at Opal. "How long have I been awake?"

"Today? About four hours," Opal replied. It seemed her mood hadn't been affected by the exchange. "You were up for about eight yesterday, all together." Then Opal looked to Korra. "Come on, sit down. You're not going to hurt anything."

Korra sat tentatively at the foot of the bed and continued to watch.

Bolin had gone silent, had been staring at his hands folded in his lap as though very deep in thought. Korra noticed his fingers just barely moving and realized, mildly horrified, that he was trying to add the numbers Opal had given him. Then he looked at Asami purposefully and said, "I've hurt it more in the twelve hours I've been awake than you could imagine." There was a definite cynicism about the way he'd said the words. Then his voice relaxed and he pouted. "The healers told me if I'm not careful I'll dislocate it again."

"I know," Asami said. "I was here when they told you. Twice."

"Oh. I forgot."

"I knew you would."

"And Lin told me if I keep poking at it she'll dislocate the other one, too."

Opal laughed. Then Asami laughed. Any negativity was forgotten, and Asami set the Pai Sho board.

They played three games before Bolin's attention deteriorated too much to continue. The lot of them remained in extremely high spirits, even when they had to repeat instructions and rules, when they had to tell Bolin twice to stop messing with his shoulder after he tweaked it the wrong way and spent a solid ten minutes trying to set it back right.

Given the distraction, Korra had forgotten her nerves. The whole afternoon felt the same as any ordinary afternoon spent in the company of her friends. She didn't think about Mako's letter, didn't think about the body she and Lin had exhumed, about the combustion bender presently in custody. She didn't think about the kiss or the feeling it had given her.

Su arrived back to the room with dinner, and they all ate together. Even Bolin stole a few bites from Opal's box, though he insisted for the most part that he simply hadn't been all that hungry since he'd waked. After dinner things quieted down and Bolin quickly tired. Opal helped him to lay back down, then curled up beside him with her head resting on his good shoulder, and he was well asleep by the time Korra and Asami left for the precinct.

After briefly questioning them about their afternoon, Lin escorted them to a waiting car, and they were off. Korra hadn't thought to ask exactly where they were going, and she continued to sit in the quiet, listening to Asami and Lin prattle on about Bolin's troubled shoulder and how Lin was going to have to give him a "stern talking to" on the matter.

"I'm not really sure, but I think he knocked it out again today," Asami said.

"I'm going to knock _him_ out," Lin replied.

"Has that been a problem?" Korra asked. "It coming back out? Is that what happened?"

"He did it twice yesterday, but I don't think he remembers it," Asami said with a shrug. "Once when he got up to try and go to the bathroom without telling anyone..."

"And wound up confused and on the floor," Lin grumbled.

"And somehow he did it once in his sleep, right before I left for the night," Asami finished.

"Idiot, that boy is."

Korra smiled. It seemed that Lin had developed a soft spot.

Some time later, the automobile stopped outside of a large metal building well outside of city limits, and Lin helped Korra and Asami out. As they walked toward the building, she explained that this was the single-celled facility where they were holding the combustion bender. She said that he had remained under constant surveillance since arriving, and though he sat in a room completely alone and restrained, he seemed no worse off than when he'd arrived.

"I don't want you to think I'm trying to exploit you," Lin said, and she stopped outside a metal door with no handles, "but I thought maybe if you went into the Avatar state you might scare some information out of him."

Korra shrugged, looked to Asami uncertainly, and Lin opened the door.

The combustion bender sat on the floor in the center of the room with his hands and feet shackled in short, thick, platinum chains that left almost no room for motion at all. The tattoo on his bald head had been covered completely with a thick metal plate, but his yellow-orange eyes remained uncovered and he glared daggers at the three as they entered. Though he sat immobile and restrained, he definitely seemed more imposing now than he had while lying unconscious on the floor of Bolin's hospital room.

"So, you're so desperate you had to bring in the Avatar," he sneered. "Pitiful."

Korra looked to Lin for guidance, but Lin just shrugged and motioned toward him. Korra didn't know exactly what she was going to do to get answers out of him, and as she approached, a sinking feeling grabbed hold of her insides. She sat down before the combustion bender, far enough away that he would not be able to lash out at her, crossed her legs, and looked at him curiously.

"I suppose I don't need to introduce myself, then," Korra said. Historically, she had always handled these types of situations in the same way: Approach with initial kindness and only resort to force if it was required. She didn't truly believe it would work, it so rarely worked at all, but she would try it all the same. "I want to make it very, very clear to you that I'm not here because Lin asked me to be here," she said, and though there was a firmness to her voice she made certain to hold back her anger. "I'm here because you attacked one of my best friends without any reason, you tried to kill him in cold blood, and I want to know why."

The combustion bender smirked. Crow's feet deepened at the corners of his eyes. Despite his iron expression, the wrinkles about his face told Korra he had spent a fair portion of his life in a happier place. She wondered what had changed to make him so vile.

"My mission is my own business," said the man.

"Why did you attack Bolin?"

"Because I was given his name."

Korra rocked back just slightly, folded her hands in her lap, and felt a curiosity tugging at her face. "So, you're a killer for hire? A mercenary?"

"I am whatever you think I am. You've already made up your mind."

Korra plopped her chin down on her hand and remained quiet for a time. She racked her brain to think of ways to get him to talk, to say anything at all, even if it was minor. "Okay," she said, settling on the matter, "I want to make sure I understand this. You won't give us your name, you won't tell us who sent you, and you won't tell us a _good_ reason why you attacked Bolin. You've already been captured and restrained. We're clearly not going to let you go until we get some kind of information, so it's in your best interest to speak up. Considering all that, why won't you tell us anything?"

"I have no reason to tell you anything."

For a few moments, Korra was struck dumb by this man's stubbornness. It seemed kindness would not work. "What's to prevent me from going into the Avatar state and forcing the answers out of you?"

Again, the combustion bender smirked. He never broke eye contact. He seemed so sure of himself, so cocky. "Go into the Avatar state if you want. There's nothing you can do to me that will make me answer your questions. Bend at me, Avatar, use every element available to you. Beat me to within an inch of my life if you must. I've seen it all. I've endured it all. I can withstand anything you can throw at me and more."

Korra stared at the man for a long time, her eyes narrowed and her mind working. He had said to her exactly the same thing he had said to Lin, according to Lin's account. It seemed silly to bother with any more threats, especially if they likely wouldn't work. "All right," she said, finally settled on the matter. "If you won't tell me why you did it, and you won't tell me where you came from or who gave you orders, at least tell me your name. Then we can be on even footing."

"There's no even footing here, Avatar. I'm in chains."

Korra stood, and the combustion bender spat at her feet. She turned about and walked away. Lin looked disappointed and very slightly angry, but Korra didn't mind. The seed of a plan had taken root in the back of her mind.

As they moved toward the exit, the combustion bender laughed coldly. "You gave up faster than I thought you would, Avatar! Better luck next time."

Korra wouldn't dignify him with a response.

"That was fast," Asami said as they exited the compound. There was no judgment in her voice at all. "I figured you'd talk to him a bit longer."

But Korra shrugged. "I didn't need to talk to him anymore. I got everything I needed."

"How could you have possibly gotten anything out of that?" Lin asked, and there _was_ judgment in her voice. "You were at it for less than ten minutes."

The conversation paused as the three ladies entered the car and embarked for Republic City.

"Well," Korra began thoughtfully, "you said it to me before, Lin, that he's not afraid of you. It's clear he's not afraid of me either. He said it himself, didn't he? I could've gone into the Avatar state, yeah, but what good would it have done? I could bend every element at him at the same time, and he wouldn't flinch. That's what he said. I could use the strength of the Avatar state to beat the information out of him, but he said he won't budge for that either. So why should I make him think he's won by proving him right?"

"He already thinks he won," Lin said.

"But he hasn't," Korra said. "The fight hasn't even started yet, if you ask me."

Asami leaned forward, her brow quirked in confusion. "You have a plan, then? Did you leave because you thought of something?"

"Yep."

It took a few seconds of silence for Lin to say, "Are you going to tell us about it or not?" She sounded angrier still.

At this, Korra couldn't help but smile. In the cell itself the idea had been the tiniest speck, but now she thought on it, it had begun to grow. There was genius in the plan. There was also a lot of stupidity in the plan, she realized, but the potential was far too good to pass up.

"He said he's seen it all before," Korra explained deliberately. "He said that he's been through everything we could give him: earthbending, waterbending, firebending, airbending, nonbending. It doesn't matter. It's all old hat for him. So," she paused, a brightness entering her voice, "let's give him something new. Let's give him something he _hasn't_ seen before."

Lin glanced at Korra skeptically from the front seat, and Asami's confused expression had become perhaps more confused, if such a thing was possible.

"Do you think you can keep him locked up for another few days? A week? Max, two?" Korra asked.

"I can keep him locked up until he's dust if I want to," Lin replied.

"Good. Keep him in there. Don't send any more metalbenders in, it'll just make him more confident. You give me some time, and we'll get him to talk."

"How?" Asami asked. Now she sounded slightly frustrated, too.

But Korra just reclined in her seat and folded her hands behind her head, smug and satisfied, all her prior nervousness and uncertainty forgotten in her moment of genius. She simply said, "We have a lavabender."


	16. Waterbending

It was a full seven days after the collapse before the healers felt comfortable enough to discharge Bolin into Tenzin's watchful custody. The morning of his release, Bolin managed to recount to the healers every injury he had sustained in the collapse including those already healed, every recommendation they made for his recovery, and every restriction he would have to observe and for how long he would have to observe them. Of course, he recited these items slowly, with perhaps more intensive thought than usual, but he did it all the same, and it seemed to have been enough.

Each day had been a struggle. He had known all along how brainless he had seemed, and yet had been powerless to control it. He remembered only fragments of moments from the first three days after the collapse, and even those fragments remained fuzzy around the edges. His cognizance had returned to him slowly, and try as he might Bolin could not put his finger on exactly when his mind had finally come back.

And even then, his mind hadn't really come back.

Every conversation took incredible effort. Every sentence took careful planning. And even the thoughts which precipitated the words did not come fluidly. His brain seemed only to be working in fits and starts, when it worked at all, and he found himself blanking between words and leaving off in the middle of thoughts more often than he completed them. Worse, he found himself working too hard to keep an even keel emotionally.

Everything seemed to hit him harder than it ever should have, and Bolin knew it. He'd nearly cried of joy the first morning he woke up to recognize Opal sleeping on the bed beside him and couldn't explain why. He'd nearly cried of embarrassment the first time he saw Su, and recalled hazily how he had spent nearly two hours apologizing to her about pushing her down at police headquarters. Of course, he hadn't realized at the time how long he'd spent groveling. Opal had told him after the fact, which only served to embarrass him more. Even when he was alone in his room, he was often overcome by a strange and irrepressible sadness, particularly when he considered how many hours a day he spent laying idle and thoughtless on his bed.

He remained generally confused, generally slow, and overwhelmingly tired, even after he'd settled into his room in the boy's dormitory on Air Temple Island.

The fatigue racked him both mentally and physically. He slept often and intermittently, had dozed at the table at breakfast the morning following his release, napped most of the day away, and had to leave the dinner table early that evening to avoid humiliating himself again. No matter how much he slept, he still felt tired. And every time he woke he remembered the litany of problems with his body. Head trauma, check. Sprained knee, check. Dislocated shoulder, how could he forget? It seemed the thing was out of joint more often than it was in, but there was nothing the healers could do for it that wouldn't lay him up for weeks or months. It had come out in the bath, when he stretched, when he slept, and though he had certainly gotten used to the disgusting feeling of his bones grinding together, he knew he would never grow accustomed to the gut-wrenching pain. Given its finicky nature even while performing mundane tasks he dared not entertain the idea of earthbending, not seriously anyway, and that was the most depressing thought of all. The only bright side was that he'd gotten fairly adept at putting it back in on his own, but that seemed little consolation in the long run.

Try as he might to pretend, his gloom did not go unnoticed. No one said anything to him about it, but he couldn't help but notice how unusually nice everyone was being. Jinora and Ikki had brought him half a dozen books to look through, and when he explained that he couldn't focus on the text they had offered to read with him. Just looking at the characters on the pages made his perpetual headache worse. Meelo and Rohan came in often to ask the kinds of ridiculous questions that only nine and four year old boys could think of, questions that they were likely too embarrassed to ask their father. Bolin entertained these stoically and vowed never to say a word to Tenzin. Asami stopped in daily when she wasn't occupied by Future Industries business, and brought food that more often than not went untouched thanks to his utterly diminished appetite. She didn't press for conversation, which Bolin appreciated, but she did insist that the lights in his room stay on, which both drained him and made the headache worse. Pema brought tea every afternoon and made certain his room remained tidy. Tenzin offered assistance in general, with dressing and cleaning and other mundane tasks, but Bolin had refused it all out of sheer stubbornness and had felt a little offended that anyone would think he needed help to do something as simple as putting on a shirt.

But then his shoulder had come out while he was putting on his shirt. Though he managed to get it back in relatively quickly, he'd spent the next hour sitting half-dressed on the floor trying not to cry about it.

It wasn't until Korra entered his room with Lin, Asami, and Opal behind her that he realized how little he had seen of her. As they situated themselves in chairs and on the bed he strained to remember if he had forgotten her visits or if she simply hadn't shown up at all. Opal had mentioned that Korra had stopped by the hospital once, but beyond that there seemed to be nothing.

If he'd been able to think about it, he would have believed her to be avoiding him.

"How are you feeling?" Opal asked as she curled up beside him. She pecked him gently on the cheek and smiled. "Better today?"

Bolin had grown accustomed to shrugging with his left shoulder only. He didn't miss the look that the ladies exchanged.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, kid," Lin said. "We need to ask you some questions now that you can actually answer them."

"If you really think I can answer them," Bolin replied. A cynicism had come to his voice lately, and he couldn't seem to shake it off. He couldn't even fake sincerity.

"I want to know exactly what you remember," Lin continued, seemingly unfazed by his tone. "From the day you were attacked. With detail, if you can."

It took a long time for the question to sink in, a truth Bolin recognized only by the change in Lin, Asami, and Korra's expressions. They hadn't spent enough time around him to modify their reactions, not the same way Opal had. At least she could stay straight-faced while he struggled with basic thought.

Bolin didn't really know where to start. He remembered everything that had happened. He remembered the combustion bender, he remembered the fight, he remembered falling through the floor-or had the floor buckled beneath him? An uncertainty came over him, and instead of getting straight to the point, Bolin dumbly said, "I don't think I apologized to you for what I did."

Lin's face screwed up. She must have thought he had missed the point entirely. He could see it in her eyes.

"For when I blew up at you," Bolin clarified slowly. He had to make sure the words came out right. "When I...The night before..."

"Don't worry about it," Lin said flatly. "I'm over it. Now what do you remember?"

With a great sigh, Bolin folded his hands in his lap and fidgeted. He felt nervous. Lin was questioning him with purpose, as though he was in trouble. There was an urgency about her and he wanted to respond in kind. He didn't want to waste her time by taking too long to think about what words he wanted to use, but he couldn't will his mind to go any faster.

"Well," he started. And then he stopped, having forgotten what he was going to say. He felt his forehead wrinkle, and he dropped his face into his hands. He felt Opal rub his back comfortingly. He breathed deep and tried again. "I didn't sleep," he said. "I couldn't sleep the night before. I..." he didn't want to admit that he had overheard Opal and Korra talking about him. He didn't want to talk about the nightmares he'd had.

It seemed that the women read his pause as another lapse. He didn't fight the assumption. He'd probably stop in the middle of the next few sentences anyway.

"I didn't sleep," Bolin repeated. "I couldn't sleep. I went to work and was tired, and the twins were mad at me." Now he paused out of confusion, and he squinted at the bedspread as he thought. Had they been angry at him? He certainly thought they had been. He remembered that they had been, but he couldn't tell if the memory was real or imagined.

"It's okay," Opal murmured. "Take your time."

It took a great effort to keep himself from getting angry. He didn't want to take his time. He didn't want Opal to patronize him. He wanted to talk like a normal human being, without repeating himself every other word and forgetting what he was thinking before he could form the words. Such a simple explanation as this should never have warranted so much thinking.

"I left," Bolin said. An enormous sigh came out of him and took the mounting frustration with it. He kept his head in his hands. "I wanted to be by myself, so I left. And I went to work on my own. I didn't do a very good job." He shot a sheepish glance toward Lin, but she remained impassive. He continued, emboldened by her lack of reaction, but still he dropped his forehead back onto his hands. "I couldn't focus. I couldn't bend. I mean, I could bend. I could. But I couldn't do it well. I think. And...I was tired. And there was a man..."

"Are you okay?"

Bolin glanced at Opal. The look on her face told him that he'd not finished his thought, that he had trailed off again. It was a look of utmost concern, a look of worry. To Bolin, it was a look that said he hadn't recovered enough to suit her, or that she believed he wouldn't recover at all. He couldn't really tell. It was so hard to read people now. A familiar heaviness came over him, and the emotion welled back up. Again, he dropped his head into his hands and spent a long time fighting the sadness back down. He was going to finish this conversation. He was determined to finish it.

"At lunch," Bolin said. "I didn't leave. I wanted to sleep, so I sat down and tried to sleep. I woke up and heard the sound of combustion. You know the sound," he looked to Lin, and she nodded. Head back down, he continued. "I heard the sound and panicked. And I ran but there wasn't anywhere to go. And I tried to fight back but I couldn't hit anything. There wasn't anything to bend on the roof. I was a sitting turtleduck. And I was tired, so I couldn't hit anything. It was pitiful. I guess he wasn't tired. He hit me plenty."

"Did he say anything to you?" Korra said, and the sound of her voice startled him. He hadn't heard her speak in days, had forgotten her voice entirely. He'd barely seen her at all.

"No," Bolin said directly. "He didn't say a word. Just...Bent at me. He won the fight, obviously. I fell down. I think I hurt my knee before I fell down. I couldn't get up because it hurt so bad. But then I fell down. I don't remember exactly _how_ I fell down. But I remember I fell down, and I tried to catch myself but I couldn't connect. I couldn't ground myself, I mean, so I couldn't..." He paused again. A lump had developed in his throat, and he felt very hot around his ears and neck. He couldn't tell if it was sadness or embarrassment. The emotions felt so similar.

"I know how earthbending works," Lin said. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

The words had come out with little inflection, but they comforted Bolin all the same. He continued.

"I fell down. It sounded like the whole world was caving in on top of me, and that's the last thing I remember of that day. The rest is all," he struggled for the word, "blurry, I guess. I thought everything after that was a dream, or I didn't know it was real, anyway. I'd still think it was a dream if you hadn't told me that he showed up in my room. But I woke up, I must've been in the hospital, but I woke up and didn't know where I was. I couldn't really see. It was dark, you know, and my eyes..." He waved his hand absently in front of his face, as though it would explain what he meant. "Everything hurt. And there was a man. The combustion bender. He was in the room, and he said that I shouldn't have woke up. Well, I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was something like that. Close enough. But he said that, and I got scared. I mean, I was scared anyway because I didn't know where I was or what was going on, but I got more scared. I didn't know what was going on, I think I was pretty much brain dead. I think I'm _still_ pretty much brain dead..." He sighed again. "He said that I was stubborn, I remember that, and something about being _touched by fire_." He trailed off lamely.

"You don't remember anything after that?" Asami prompted.

Bolin shook his head.

"You don't remember throwing anything? Don't remember me setting your arm?" Lin asked.

Again, Bolin shook his head. He'd thought it had all been a dream, and even then the only thing he could hold on to was looking at Lin, panicked, as she held his arm. He'd imagined that Su had covered his eyes. "I don't remember anything else between then and a couple days ago. Not really, anyway."

The silence following his words lasted too long. It became awkward, but then Lin stood and planted her hands firmly on her hips. "That'll do well enough," Lin said. "You think you could identify him if you had to?"

"Probably."

"Good." Lin made to leave the room in a hurry.

"Wait a minute," Bolin said before he'd had the chance to think about it. Lin stopped and looked back, confused. "Aren't you going to tell me the rest? Aren't you going to tell me what happened? What _actually_ happened?"

"We've already told you," Opal said kindly. "You knocked the combustion bender out and then fainted. That's really all there was."

Bolin looked down. He felt defeated. He should have remembered that conversation, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.

"You get better soon," Lin said. "I'm counting on it. Korra, Opal, Asami, we should go and let him rest."

It sounded to Bolin like there was some hidden meaning behind the words, like she meant more than what she was saying. But he couldn't articulate that. He could barely even think it. He got caught on the thought for a while, so hung up that he didn't notice the kiss Opal planted on his cheek or that she had gotten up to leave. Then the thought dislodged and rushed away, and an entirely new realization struck him. The dreams. He remembered the nightmares. He'd just been thinking about them five minutes ago.

"Wait," he said again, and now when Lin rounded she looked mildly angry. Though it was a restrained anger, it made Bolin stammer. "I wondered... Um... I... I need to talk to Korra."

"I'll meet you three back at headquarters," Lin said brusquely.

"I need to talk to Korra alone," Bolin repeated. He'd meant the addition to come out confidently, but it hadn't worked. He'd sounded sheepish, almost afraid, and the involuntary pause his brain had inserted into the middle of the sentence had certainly not helped. He added lamely, "If that's okay."

Opal and Asami exchanged an uncertain glance and Opal nodded. Then they left with Lin, and Korra stood alone by the door. The expression that remained on her face made it seem like she was about to be sick. As soon as the door closed her posture stiffened, she crossed her arms, and she didn't come back into the room or even indicate that she meant to. Instead, she said rigidly, "What's up?"

"Can we take a walk?" Bolin asked, and he got slowly to his feet without waiting for a reply. Even moving around was difficult. "It might take a while for me to say what I need to say, and I need to get out of this room."

"Yeah," Korra said. She didn't move to help him. Instead, as he approached her she said again, "What's up?"

It seemed as though she wanted to be rid of him.

"Look," Bolin said flatly, with perhaps too much heat in his tone, "if this is a bad time for you I can go lay back down and we can do this later. But you and I need to talk... Or I need to talk to you... Or..." he paused, the confusion coming back. The words hadn't come out right, had come out all jumbled. Hadn't they? The meaning would be lost. It might already have been lost. Had he used the right words at all? He sighed and started over again. "I need to talk to you. It's important, or else I wouldn't have asked."

Korra opened the door, and though her posture relaxed a bit she still wore the sick expression. Bolin made no mention of it. He couldn't have made any meaning out of it anyway.

They exited the room and Korra greeted the two White Lotus sentries outside Bolin's door-sentries that Bolin had forgotten were even there-and walked for a while. He followed Korra's lead and didn't pay attention to where they were going. He couldn't navigate and think of the words he wanted to say at the same time. It was entirely too much effort. He felt drained just being on his feet, never mind trying to walk and think and talk at the same time.

If he'd been able to recognize it, he might have noticed the conspicuous distance Korra kept between them.

Somehow they ended up at the pavilion where Korra took her daily meditation, a platform that Bolin very rarely visited at all. With nowhere else to go, Korra leaned against the redwood fencing and stared out at Aang's statue across the bay. She wouldn't make eye contact, and Bolin couldn't tell why.

"Look," he said, and he assumed much the same posture as her: Arms crossed, half his weight against the fencing, "I..." he stopped. He felt so tired. The emotion was coming back. Why was it coming back? Why couldn't he control it? Instead of saying whatever it was that he had meant to say, he gave a great groan of frustration, propped his elbows on the railing, and dropped his head into his hands. It seemed that he'd spent more time in that position over the last few days than the rest of his life combined.

"It's that bad, huh?" Korra asked, and when Bolin glanced at her he noted with some relief that she had finally made eye contact. He wished she didn't look so distressed, so worried, but at least she was looking at him. It was a start. "Is it? That bad?" She repeated.

Bolin shook his head, dropped it back into his hands. He didn't know what else to do. "It's bad. I try to think, and then I stop, and then whatever it was that I was about to say is completely gone, and..." his brain inserted another involuntary pause, and this time he recognized it. He took a deep breath and continued. "And I keep doing _that_ and I can't stop it and everyone thinks I'm stupid. I'm tired. I'm tired of being tired. All my body wants to do is lay around and sleep, but all I want to do is get up and move around. I spent what-four days?-completely bedridden and now that I'm free it's like I'm more trapped than ever."

"It was seven," Korra corrected gently. "You were there for seven days and eight nights."

"You make it sound like a vacation. I hated it. Or I hated what I remember of it."

When he looked at her, Korra had again taken to gazing out over the bay. He stared out as well, and for a few minutes he forgot why he'd even walked with her to begin with. But then he remembered the dreams and spent a while trying to decide how he wanted to say what he needed to say.

"I need to talk to you," he said somewhat gravely. He spoke slowly, a deliberateness to every word. He was determined to get through it all without another lapse. "I already said that. Look, I had this dream. While I was laid up..."

Korra went all rigid again, bristled like a spooked deerdog. She looked a bit like she was going to throw up.

"Are you okay?"

Korra nodded, but she didn't say anything and didn't move a muscle. She just kept looking out at the statue, her eyes opened a touch wider than usual.

"Can we sit? This might be easier if we sit. Come on." Bolin gently put his arm around Korra's shoulders and drew her away from the fence. He could feel the tenseness in her muscles, the shortness of her breath. It concerned him, but he couldn't afford to lose focus now. He had to stay on point before he lost the thoughts completely.

Korra sat heavily beneath the covered pavilion and with effort Bolin sat, too, and they faced each other in the quiet for a while. Korra stared at her boots, and Bolin watched her curiously, trying as hard as he could to read her expression. She'd gone pale.

"Are you sick?" Bolin asked dumbly. It was the only thing he could imagine that made sense. It would explain why she hadn't come to visit him more often. It would explain how she looked at this very moment. "Is that it?"

Korra looked at him, startled, and then nodded. "Yeah. That's it," she said nervously, and she crossed her arms and rubbed at her upper arms. "I just don't feel very well."

"Is there something I can do?"

"We can skip this conversation, if you want," she said. She sounded slightly hopeful, and Bolin didn't understand why. Why would she have agreed to come out with him if she didn't want to? Why would she have agreed to have the conversation only to change her mind at the last minute?

"I'm sorry," Bolin said, "but I really need to say this while I've got it in my head." He paused and Korra gave him a pleading look, but he pressed on all the same. "I had this dream while I was in the hospital. Well, and besides then, but I had this dream. I lost control of my bending."

"_What_?"

The shift in Korra's posture and tone had come so suddenly that Bolin's thoughts stopped dead in his brain. Where thirty seconds ago she had looked ready to cry, she had suddenly perked up. She looked extremely hopeful, almost relieved, as though he had lifted some enormous weight off of her. She seemed to realize that she had jarred him, and she relaxed.

"I had this dream," Bolin started over, more tentative this time, and he kept his eyes locked on Korra. Confusion or not, he was going to finish. "I lost control of my bending. I mean, I did actually lose it-control-you know that and I know that, when I blew up at Lin and Su, and I'm so ashamed of _that_ that I wish I could die." He paused, startled. Those weren't words he had ever meant to say. They weren't words he'd ever said before. He'd definitely never thought them before. With a great breath, he pressed on. "I dreamed that I couldn't control my bending and I hurt a lot of people. Badly. Really badly. I mean, I've had messed up dreams before but I've never had something that... Messy... Or scary... Or violent."

Korra just watched him, and Bolin felt self-conscious.

"I'm not supposed to earthbend. You know, my shoulder and all, they told me I'm not supposed to. But I..." He paused, the stupid feeling growing stronger. He looked down. "I'm really afraid. I don't want to fall out of rhythm. I don't want to lose control. I don't want to repeat what I did to Lin and Su. I don't want what happened in my dream to happen for real."

"What happened?"

"Have you ever killed someone with your bending?" The words had come out before Bolin could stop them. He hadn't even thought to say them and he regretted it immediately. He stammered nervously but nothing coherent would come to him.

"I suppose, once," Korra replied softly. The air of concern about her had changed just slightly. It was gentler, more genuine, maybe. It didn't seem to be inward anymore. Now it was aimed at him. "My uncle died at Harmonic Convergence, but I don't know if that was really bending or not, I don't know he was even still alive in there. I don't know if I'm the one that did it. Is that what happened in your dream? You killed people?"

Bolin nodded. "I lavabent. It..." He paused. He couldn't think of the word. "It burned them. They just sunk down in it and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't control it. They just melted into it like..."

"Who?" Korra asked. Bolin didn't mind the interruption. "Who do you mean by _they_?"

"I don't know who they were. Just...people. It was like I was in Ba Sing Se and the explosion happened and for some reason everything turned to lava and the people that were running around couldn't get out of it and..."

"Slow down."

"I'm afraid, Korra. You're the Avatar... And you're my friend, but you're the Avatar, too, and I know this is stuff that you're supposed to help with..."

"Have you ever tried meditating?"

"No. I don't know how."

"Well, you could try that," Korra said. "It's a good way to process those kinds of thoughts."

"I want..." Bolin started, but then he stopped. It was a deliberate pause. An idea had come to him, but it sounded stupid even in his brain.

"What?"

"You're the Avatar," Bolin said again, trying to force the thought out, "but I already said that. And it's stupid for me to keep repeating it. But you're the Avatar." Another cry of frustration. The nerves had caught up to him. He couldn't get past it. He was hung up again.

"Slow. Down," Korra said again. She emphasized each word, commanding yet tender. "Just slow down and breathe."

Bolin breathed and dropped his head back into his hands. Maybe he could say the words if he wasn't looking at her. The heat crept back into his face as he stared at the ground. All of this was so embarrassing.

"Now," Korra said, "what are you trying to say?"

"I know that the Avatar is the one who's supposed to, you know, master all the elements and all. And you've done that." Bolin took another deep breath. He was going to get through this. "Obviously. But I... I guess I never thought about how powerful lavabending was before. I took it for granted and didn't realize how...Dangerous...It was...Especially if I can't control it very well, and I don't feel like I can. I can't use it..." Another lapse. "I've never used it very effectively. There's a lot more I feel like I could be doing, and in better ways, is what I'm trying to say. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want you... I want you to teach me how to... How to waterbend."

He didn't look up, but he could feel Korra staring at him. His whole explanation had come out a garbled mess of rushed words and stammering.

"You're an earthbender," she said plainly.

"I know," Bolin replied, frustrated again. "That's not what I meant. What I meant is that water is a liquid...And lava is...Well, a liquid, kind of. A thick liquid, anyway. And I want to learn to control it better. So it seems like it would be a good idea to learn how to...Liquid bend." He paused and read some confusion in Korra's expression. "I mean, I know that not everything will translate very well, and I won't be able to do some of the stuff, but maybe if I learn the forms and practice I'll be able to...Adapt."

"You're being serious."

"I'm being serious."

Bolin dared not look at her. He felt too ashamed. But Korra's tone changed again, and the confusion seemed to have gone out of her voice. "It's not _that_ crazy of an idea. But if you really want to do it, we need to do it right. Are you sure you're up for it? The healers said you weren't supposed to earthbend until your arm had healed."

"It's not really earthbending, is it?"

"Then tomorrow morning you need to be out here at sunrise, at this very spot," Korra said authoritatively, and she stood. "We'll have to be quiet, and we'll have to find a spot away from here to work. Tenzin isn't going to be happy if he finds out you're bending so soon. And you need to know that I'm not going to take it easy on you."

"That's fine," Bolin said, and another wave of embarrassment came on. "But can you help me stand up?"

Korra complied. "Okay. I might take it a little easy on you."


	17. A Slow Recovery

For Korra, everything about the next few days was surprising. The time since Bolin had left the hospital had numbed the nervousness she felt around him, but the realization that he seemed to have forgotten all about what had happened between them quelled it almost entirely. The flood of relief she felt when he asked her to teach him waterbending had caused an elation so complete that it seemed it would never go away. For the first time, she felt comfortable enough to establish a daily routine that placed her alone with him for most of the morning: Meditation at the pavilion, physical training somewhere far away from the pavilion, sometimes lunch, then go their separate ways. Only the tiniest shred of nervousness remained.

For the first few days, Korra focused on teaching Bolin meditation techniques that she hoped would strengthen his mind. For a while he had difficulty just sitting still, let alone focusing enough to get any benefit from the effort, and seemed for a while that he would just fall asleep. Even so, he sat and tried.

"You're just too tense," Korra said on the third morning. She had made the decision to forego her own meditation to try and help make his more effective. She hadn't told him that she was going to watch him. She knew that he wouldn't be wild about the idea. "Right there." She poked him in the forehead, just above his left eyebrow. "And right there." Gentler, she poked his right shoulder, and he jerked it away from her.

He opened one eye and gave her a doubtful look. "You're supposed to be doing this, too, aren't you?"

"I've had enough practice," Korra replied. "Now close your eyes and breathe."

He closed his eyes, but didn't relax. "What exactly am I supposed to be thinking about?"

"You're not supposed to be _thinking_ at all," Korra replied. "You just sit, and you..." She didn't know how to explain it. She'd never had to explain it before. "Tenzin always said that you sit and _attune yourself to the elements around you_ but I never really got what that meant."

"Well, I've only got one element."

"Then focus on that."

He did.

In all other matters of bending, Bolin learned quickly, or at least quicker than Korra would have imagined considering the trouble he had with general living. Within two days he could follow along with the basic waterbending forms in real time. On the fourth day, they actually began to bend, though little came of the effort. Bolin was scarcely strong enough to bring any earth from the ground, let alone heat and compress it enough to create free-flowing lava. So, they settled on building back strength and continuing to learn the forms.

Korra reported his progress to Lin and Asami, who believed that she was simply working with him to rehabilitate after so long abed. She didn't want them to know exactly what they were doing. She didn't want to embarrass herself or Bolin if it didn't work out. All she said was that the meditation seemed to be strengthening his mind and that he was still too nervous about his shoulder to give bending his full effort. Going to visit the combustion bender would have to wait.

Then, on the eighth day of their training, something altogether strange happened.

Halfway through their normally silent meditation, Bolin looked up and announced, quite confidently, that Asami was there. The sound of his voice startled Korra, and by the time she had recovered enough to correct him he'd gotten to his feet and walked off toward the stairs. Asami wasn't there, and for a moment Korra wondered if the progress she'd been seeing in his mental state wasn't as good as she thought. But then Asami came strolling up the stairs with a small, gift-wrapped box in her hands, and looked slightly confused to see Bolin standing there waiting for her.

The two of them exchanged happy hellos, walked back to the pavilion and sat, and Korra looked between them confusedly.

"What was that all about?" Korra said to Bolin, and he shrugged. Then Korra looked to Asami and said, "Did you tell him you were coming by?"

Asami shook her head. "No, I really hadn't planned to stop in until this afternoon. I didn't think I'd get this done, but I stayed up late to finish it." She wiggled the box a bit in gesture.

"What is it?" Korra asked.

Asami thrust the box toward Bolin with an enormous smile. "Korra told me you've been trying to bend and I wanted to try to help," she explained. "As much as I can help, anyway, being a nonbender."

Bolin took a few moments to look between Asami and the box, seemingly more confused than he was surprised. The moments of complete confusion had come less frequently of late, but the look on his face told Korra in no uncertain terms that he hadn't fully recovered. Not nearly.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Open it, silly," Asami replied.

Bolin opened it delicately, as though he was afraid he would break whatever was inside. As he stared into the box the confusion on his face deepened until he pulled out a bundle of what looked to Korra like limp, olive green straps. "I repeat myself, on purpose this time," Bolin said, oddly self-aware. He leaned forward a bit, squinting. He seemed to be working extremely hard to work it out. "What... Is it?"

But Asami beamed and took the device delicately out of Bolin's hands, untangling it from itself, and she held it aloft for both Bolin and Korra to see clearly. Now it had been laid out plain, it looked to Korra like a weird cross between a shirt and a belt.

"It's a shoulder brace!" Asami declared happily. "See, it's got plates in it," she tapped her fingers against flat, cloth-covered panels on its front and rear, "to protect and hold your arm in place. I made them from platinum so you don't have to worry about any metalbending putting you at a disadvantage, but they're thin, so they can break. Try to avoid hitting them too hard. They can be removed as your shoulder heals up. And then it's got this strap that goes around your chest and back to adjust for fitting, see? I've been working on it for a few days, but I was getting help from the healers Lin was working with and they were pretty busy with..."

Korra shot Asami a dangerous look, and Asami shut up at once, her eyes wide with realization. It wouldn't do to have her spilling information before they were ready.

But Bolin hadn't seemed to notice the slip. He was too caught up trying to understand what Asami had said. She must have spoken too fast, too excitedly, for him to follow. He presently stared at the contraption in Asami's hands. He looked skeptical. "So... How, exactly?"

"It might take a minute," Asami said. She grabbed Bolin somewhat roughly by the left arm and pulled him toward her. He moved reluctantly. "I tried it on myself, but obviously, I couldn't fit it for you because I don't know your measurements. Let me show you... Turn this way... I'm not going to hurt you! Come on. Good. Put your arm through here."

Asami began to assemble the device about Bolin's arm while his face turned a deepening shade of red. She pulled what Korra now recognized as a sleeve up to the top of his arm, situated the plates front and back, and clipped them delicately into place. She drew the longer band around his chest and back, and when she wrapped her arms around him to secure it, her face touched his and he went even redder. By the time Asami had finished, Bolin had gone the color of an overripe lychee fruit.

"See?" Asami said proudly. "Now, I'm going to tighten it up so don't flinch, okay?"

Bolin didn't say a word and didn't move a muscle except to watch what she was doing.

Again, Asami began to mess with the clips, cinching the band carefully up and adjusting the plates as she did. The more she messed with the device the more Korra understood its purpose, and when Asami finally pulled away it did indeed look as the right half of a shirt complete with partial sleeve. It covered only part of his chest, though, and only one strap wrapped around his ribs, running diagonally beneath his left arm.

"How does it feel?" Asami asked gleefully. "It looks like it fits pretty well."

"It's tight," Bolin replied. He rolled his shoulder absently, looking uncomfortable in every way. "Is it supposed to be so tight?"

"Yes," Asami said, and she looked at Bolin severely. She reached out and pulled the plates away from his neck a bit, and then leaned back again. "It's supposed to be tight. It'll loosen up a little bit as you break in the fabric, but those plates are going to hold your shoulder in place. If it's not tight enough it won't work."

"Oh. Thanks?"

"I tried to make it thin enough that you can wear it under your clothes, it's not really meant to be worn over such a thick jacket, but I didn't figure you wanted to strip out here in the open." Asami paused, but Bolin didn't respond. He'd gone red again. "You'll have to adjust the fit later. I suppose the only thing left to do is see if it actually works."

Korra thought that Asami sounded a little too excited to be saying that. But if anyone was to be confident in the success of their work, it was Asami, and rightfully so.

"You... Want me to bend? Right here and now?" Bolin asked doubtfully.

"Well, you've been working on it, haven't you?" Asami asked.

Korra looked to Bolin, and Bolin looked to her. She shrugged, and he gave her a pleading look, as though he didn't want to answer the question himself. So Korra cleared her throat and explained. "He hasn't really gotten back to it yet," she said. "Not all the way, anyhow. We've been taking it slow."

Asami looked crestfallen and Bolin watched her. Korra watched him. His expression underwent a slow change, from confusion, to realization, to confusion again, as if he'd worked out some deep meaning but hadn't understood it. Then Bolin took on a guilty look, heaved an enormous sigh, and said, "Come on, Korra. Just don't hit me too hard."

He got up with effort and spent the next few moments flexing and rolling and stretching his right arm delicately as he did most days before they began their physical labor. By the time Korra had gotten to her feet his motions seemed almost natural, if a little bit slow.

"You look better," Asami said happily. "Well, better than the last time I saw you try to move around."

"You mean when I tried to go to the bathroom and Lin had to pick me up off the floor?"

"That would be the time."

Bolin shrugged again. "I may have been disobeying rest orders in my room before bed the last few nights, which, now that I said it sounds terrible, and I didn't mean it like that." He paused and looked sheepishly at the ground. "I mean that I've been trying to work a little, stretching and stuff. Don't know that it's been helping."

"Well, you do look better," Asami insisted, then added, "and your sentences are really good, too."

It was clear to Korra that Asami had meant the words to come out as encouragement, but Bolin's reaction indicated he'd taken it otherwise. He jammed his hands in his pockets and marched silently across the pavilion with his eyes on the ground and the slightest sag in his posture. Then, a formidable distance away, he turned and looked to Korra expectantly.

Uncertainly, Korra took her stance. Last time she'd earthbent at Bolin she'd split his arm, but she supposed that that had happened when he didn't have bending at all. Now he had it again, at least weakly, so he should be able to block at the very least, even if he only used his good arm. With this in mind, she drew a modestly-sized chunk of rock from the ground, and lobbed it halfheartedly across the way.

Bolin swatted it aside, notably with his right forearm. "Don't mock me," he said spitefully. "I'm out of shape, not crippled."

"You sure?"

"If we're going to test this thing out we should probably, you know, _test it out_." The bitterness had crept back into his voice in full, and now that she thought on the matter, the tone had been with him almost every hour of every day. It usually only went away when he was trying to think or when he was confused. Korra wondered if he even knew it was there.

"Okay then," Korra said. "You first."

"No," Bolin replied hotly. "You go first, and don't hold back this time." Then his voice diminished slightly, more sarcastic than spiteful. "What's the worst thing that could happen? My arm comes out? Oh no, _that's_ never happened before."

Korra couldn't really refute him, and Bolin didn't seem to be terribly worried. Besides, she reasoned, if he could hold up to her maybe he would be ready to go visit with the combustion bender. "Okay then," she said, and then began in earnest.

She kicked up a significantly larger hunk of rock and threw it more forcefully at him, then a second, then a third in rapid succession. Bolin deflected the first, left-handed, ducked beneath the second, and caught the third straight on and launched it back, right-handed. It came faster than Korra expected, and she staggered as it hit her middle.

Bolin stood with his arms crossed, eyebrow raised. It was the most pretentious look she'd ever seen on him, a look that straddled the border between disbelief and arrogance. "Really? That's it?" Sarcasm again. Korra didn't like the way the tone fit him.

But then he went on the offensive, and again Korra was surprised. She marked a difference in the way he bent the earth and wasn't sure if it was a result of his practice in lavabending, because of the time he'd spent off his feet, or if it was drawn of something else entirely. It had been a long, long time since the last time they sparred.

The earth he threw at her was smaller of size but quicker in speed, and it reminded Korra powerfully of his pro-bending style. It was extraordinarily efficient. But there was also a fluidity in his motion that hadn't been there prior. Generally earthbending relied on very independent movements, deliberate actions that rarely fit together nicely. Combinations in the element didn't come easily to those who hadn't yet mastered the form. But Bolin didn't so much as pause between the motions even with his substantial injuries: He pulled the earth from the ground and drove it toward her with graceful sweeps of the arms, blocked her counter with a wall of his own, sent the top half of it throttling toward her with a mighty kick.

"What do you think you're doing?"

They stopped dead, and all that could be heard was the sound of rocks cracking apart as they fell to the ground. Korra looked toward the stairs, where Tenzin stood glaring at them.

"Are you completely out of your minds?" Tenzin scolded.

"Well," Bolin jeered, "if you want to be real technical about it, yeah." His tone remained the same as it had when he was talking to her, if not more severe. It was all venom and attitude. Even his posture had turned aggressive. "What with, you know, the head trauma and all."

Korra's stomach jumped to her throat. She could see Tenzin's anger swelling. His face had gone the lightest shade of pink.

"You," Tenzin ordered, pointing angrily at Bolin, "to your room. Now."

"Whatever."

Korra thought Tenzin would explode. While she had mouthed off to him before, she had never been quite so disrespectful about it, and she could fairly well guarantee that none of his own children ever had. He stammered, flabbergasted, as Bolin jammed his hands back into his pockets and strode round-shouldered past him down the stairs without another word. Once he disappeared, Tenzin turned back around and Korra cowered. She'd never seen him so animated.

"And you two!" He cried, more exasperated now than he seemed angry. "I expected better out of you!"

"It was my fault," Asami explained. She seemed unmoved by Tenzin's reaction. "Don't blame them, it was my suggestion."

"What were you thinking?" Tenzin demanded. He seemed unable to come up with strong enough words. "You know-"

Asami held up her hands in surrender. "I know," she said placidly. "I know. Bed rest and sleep." Tenzin seemed to relax as she said it. "But you should know that he's not going to stay in bed, no matter what we do, and I know you've seen how sad he's been. Or angry. Or whatever _that_ just was. And it seems like every time he tries to do something his shoulder comes out-he thinks he's hiding it but I know better. He's favoring his left side too much for the right to be healing. So, I made him a brace and I wanted him to see how it worked."

Tenzin deflated just a bit. "Oh," he said feebly, and he looked between Korra and Asami as though waiting for one of them to elaborate. But then he swelled again and added, a very fatherly tone to his voice, "But he's still not supposed to be bending!"

Korra sighed. "Okay," she said. "But when he hurts himself because he's trying to do too much on his own too fast, don't come crying to me. Come on, Asami."

She had no real intention of stopping the training.

Asami collected the now empty box from beneath the pavilion, and the two made their way wordlessly back to Korra's room. Korra flopped onto her bed and folded her arms behind her head, staring somewhat irately at the ceiling.

"Well," Asami said dryly, and she tossed the empty box aside, "he was going to find out eventually."

Korra blew a sigh. "Yeah. He was. But I still expected him to be a little more understanding about it."

Asami sat heavily on the bed. "He's just worried." The frustration seemed to have gone out of her. "But you know, Bolin seems better. Well, stronger, I mean. You've been spending a lot of time together lately, right? A few hours every morning?"

For some reason, the nervousness came back to her. She _had_ been spending a lot of time with Bolin, a truth she would've never considered possible given how much effort she had previously put into avoiding him. "Yeah," Korra said slowly, her mind drifting toward thoughts of the night that had caused her so much apprehension. "I suppose we have."

"Have you noticed any change?"

Change? Korra thought. A lot had changed. True she wasn't quite as nervous around him anymore, not now he'd made it clear that he didn't remember, but she couldn't look at him the same way as she had before. There was no more casualness between them, at least not on her end. Whether she wanted to admit it, every interaction she'd had with him had been extremely deliberate. No accidental brushing of the arms, no bumping or stumbling into each other. In fact, now that she thought on it, Korra could count on one hand the number of times she had touched him at all: Exactly four. She had poked him twice when encouraging him to relax during meditation, to help him feel the tension in his body. Once, before he had learned the waterbending forms on his own, she had manually adjusted the position of his arms as his right had been sagging just slightly. The final time, she'd had to help him set his shoulder, and she'd been so terrified during that ordeal that she could barely even remember it.

"Korra?"

Korra startled, sat up, and looked to Asami. She hoped that Asami hadn't seen her reaction, hadn't seen her thinking so hard, but Asami's eyes were narrow and curious.

"Yeah," Korra said at once, and again her voice sounded a touch too bright for her liking. "There's been change. He's a lot better than he was the first day. He can actually say what he thinks now, even if he still thinks slow."

Asami sighed and folded her legs on the bed, facing Korra fully now. "He seemed a lot more confident in his movement. Stronger, maybe. But his attitude could use some serious polishing."

Korra couldn't disagree. It had been a few days since the last time Bolin had wholeheartedly attempted earthbending, and there had been a marked improvement in his strength. The sore spot on her stomach where he'd hit her was a testament to that. The combination of their training together and his working alone had clearly had an impact. The only thing that hadn't improved, just as Asami had said, was his attitude, which oscillated between perfectly normal and uncharacteristically snide. There was no predicting when it would change or what would trigger it.

Korra had hoped that meditating with him would even him out a bit, but to her knowledge it hadn't had any real, meaningful impact. Yes, he was confused less often, had fewer lapses in speech, and seemed generally more able to focus and articulate himself, but Korra imagined that such improvement was more the result of his sleeping some twelve or fourteen hours a day or more. But then again, he'd known Asami had arrived well before she had shown up. With a shake of her head, Korra dismissed the event as lucky coincidence. Nothing about their meditation would have allowed him to know that.

"I think we should call Lin," Korra said at last, having come to a conclusion.

"Why?"

"I think we ought to go visit the combustion bender again."

Asami made a face that let Korra know she didn't exactly agree. "I don't know," she said carefully. "I mean, Bolin's been irritable enough anyway, I don't know how he'll react if we tell him that he's going to go talk to the guy who literally tried to kill him. It's been a couple weeks, yeah, but I know he's not over it. There's no way he could be."

"But isn't that a good thing?" Korra reasoned. "His mood? We don't want him to go in and have a pleasant conversation with the guy. We want him to go in there and scare the pants off him."

Asami shrugged.

"And his bending today was..." Korra paused and rubbed at her stomach again, trying to think of the best word. "Well, it was intense. I think if he got mad enough he could lavabend. It might even be easy."

"And you don't think he'll be angry that we planned all this without telling him? If you think about it, we're basically using him as a tool for interrogation."

"I don't see any other choice," Korra said slowly. She hadn't looked at it that way. The idea of having Bolin get the combustion bender to talk had been great, in theory, but Korra hadn't been thinking about how the interaction might impact him. As much as she wanted to distance herself from feeling _anything_ about Bolin, she couldn't help but feel guilty. "I guess we should tell him, then. That we want to take him. We've been keeping too many secrets anyway."

"I'll let you do that," Asami said. "I almost let slip about Mako-or I guess _not_ Mako-earlier, and I wasn't even stressed out. I don't think I could hold it together if Bolin was to get mad at me and go off like he did on Tenzin." Then Asami stood and folded her arms. "I'll go get ahold of Lin. Besides, I've got a few things I need to take care of at the office and I need to feed Pabu. I may as well go visit her while I'm in the city. I'll call you when I find out what she wants to do, and you can tell Bolin."

Korra pushed herself to sit on the edge of the bed, and then she stood. "I think that's a good idea," she said. "I've seen him at his worst. I can handle it."

There was no way Asami could've known the multiple meanings of that statement. How much worse could Bolin have been than that first night when he'd knocked the combustion bender out cold even while he, himself had been utterly out of touch with reality, in what must've been unfathomable pain and scared out of what little mind he had left? And Korra wasn't even sure that had been his worst. The more she thought about it, their night together had been worse than anything else she'd seen since arriving at the hospital that evening, at least from her perspective. He'd been so out of touch and so delirious that Korra had worried at the time that the damage would be permanent.

"All right," Asami said. "I'm going to go talk to Lin. I'll let you know what she wants to do as soon as I can. It's still early; she may want to go today."

Korra nodded, and Asami hugged her gently before disappearing out the door. When she was sure Asami had gone, Korra slumped back down onto the bed, slightly sad and slightly worried, and distinctly uncertain. She couldn't decide if it would be better to go talk to Bolin about the matter now, while he was already upset, or wait until he'd had some time to cool down a bit. The last thing she wanted to do was make his bad mood even worse. For a fraction of a second she considered going to speak to Tenzin about the matter, but decided that he was probably too disappointed in her to provide advice, and would only be more disappointed if he found out what they planned to do.

Korra reclined on the bed and closed her eyes. She would wait a while, think about what to say, and hopefully by the time Asami contacted her, would have something in mind.

By lunch, Korra was glad she had decided against talking to Tenzin. The tension was still there, and Bolin wasn't even at the table. Ten minutes into the meal a White Lotus sentry had entered in something of a huff and explained that Bolin had adamantly refused to come out to eat. Tenzin hadn't said a word, but Korra could tell he was angry.

"I could take him something," said Jinora to Tenzin kindly. She must have misread the look on his face. "If you think it would help."

Tenzin narrowed his eyes at his food, and Pema answered in his place. "You know, I think that'd be a good ide-"

"No," Tenzin snapped. "If he wants to eat he needs to come out on his own."

Jinora's face screwed up, and she looked between her siblings and Korra for some explanation. It seemed Tenzin hadn't said anything to them about what had made him so upset, and Korra wasn't about to tell.

The rest of lunch passed in such tense silence that even Meelo didn't say anything, didn't even burp, and it seemed that the lot of them had taken to making sure their utensils didn't clink against the plates and that their cups didn't thump on the table. It was so quiet that Pema dropped her chopsticks, startled, when the door opened and an acolyte entered the room to inform Korra that she had received a phone call.

Korra had never been so glad to get out of a room in her life.

Predictably, the call had been from Asami, who reported with some apprehension that Lin did, indeed, want to go see the combustion bender that day, if Bolin felt up to the task. Asami also mentioned that Lin seemed to believe that Korra had already gotten Bolin's blessing on the matter, so she probably wouldn't be happy if he suddenly declined.

With no small amount of apprehension, Korra made her way to the boys' dormitory.

The White Lotus sentries outside Bolin's door greeted her warmly, but their expressions fell when she asked if they could leave them in private for a while. She stumbled over her words a bit, awkwardly explaining that it wasn't that she thought they would eavesdrop, but that she needed to discuss some sensitive business, and that of all the people to leave Bolin alone with, she was probably the most trustworthy. The guards only agreed when she promised to come get them as soon as she was done, and even then, they only moved about ten feet down the corridor.

It took a few breaths for her to feel ready enough to open the door. For some reason, whenever she touched the doorknob she felt sick, and she wasn't sure if it was because she feared how he would react to the news or because she would be alone with him again. Still, she cracked the door just slightly and poked her head inside.

He was there on the bed atop the blankets, half dressed with his head at the foot and bare feet on his pillow, his knees up. He'd draped his right forearm over his eyes, his left hand resting idly on his middle. It was an altogether odd position to have fallen asleep, and Korra wondered if he'd meant to at all. He didn't move when Korra closed the door.

She wasn't sure how to go about waking him up, or even that she should wake him up. Still, it would be far worse to have Lin _and_ Bolin angry at her, so she approached with every intention of giving him a gentle shake.

But she couldn't bring herself to touch him. Even the thought of touching him set a familiar flutter in her stomach. Frustrated with herself, Korra stood there and stared down. Another flutter.

The last time she'd looked at him like this had been in the hospital. The last time she'd looked at him like this he'd appeared all but dead. Though there was nothing dead about him this time, he still looked remarkably unhealthy. The difference seemed obvious now he'd shed his jacket, and Korra felt a little ashamed that she hadn't noticed it before. Through his sleeveless undershirt, she could see his collarbones sticking out from the tops of his shoulders and the faintest shadow of his sternum. The tendons in his neck had begun to show, the bones in his wrists were more pronounced.

In all, he'd done a surprisingly good job covering it up. Korra hadn't known him to be such a good liar.

She reached down and placed her hand gently on his arm. "Bolin?"

He didn't move.

With a sigh, Korra sat. She didn't want to shake him too hard. She didn't want to hurt him. At a loss, she patted him firmly on his right side. She cringed. She could feel his ribs. Still, she patted him again, called him again, and shook him as gently as she could. To her great relief, he moved.

It was more of a twitch than a purposeful movement, but the sleepy "Wha?" he groaned was enough to let Korra know he'd waked.

"Hey, sleepy," Korra said, and Bolin tipped his arm just enough above his eyes to look at her. She couldn't help but smile. "You got a minute?"

He groaned again and rubbed at his face with both hands. It was at this point that Korra noted the ugly cut atop his right forearm which, until now, had been resting against his forehead well out of her sight. It seemed wet.

"You're bleeding!" Korra cried automatically, but Bolin held up his hand for silence, and Korra shut up, stunned. He pressed the heels of his hands back into his eyes.

"Air Temple Island," he murmured in the same low and sleepy voice he'd used the night he'd kissed her. The words were slow, calculated, and extremely deliberate. "Bedroom. Knee, head, shoulder. Pabu is with Asami." He repeated the litany twice more before heaving an enormous sigh and moving to sit up, but he stopped short, propped on his elbows, as though he had just noticed Korra sitting there. "Why are you in my room?"

"Why are you bleeding?"

Bolin looked at his forearm, brow raised, and then shrugged. "It stopped before I fell asleep."

Korra glared at him. "What happened?" she said.

"Bad block," Bolin replied simply. "Earlier today. Sloppy bending. I didn't notice until I got back here and by that time it didn't seem important."

Without thinking, Korra wrenched his hand toward her to have a look, and he cried out in pain. When she released it, he fell back and clapped his left hand over his face. He lay that way for a while, and when it seemed he'd recovered, he dropped his hand limp above his head and continued staring at the ceiling.

"Can we not just _grab_ next time?" he asked dryly. "Please? Because _pain_?"

"I'm sorry," Korra replied, and she meant it. "I just wanted to look at it."

"Why?" he snapped. "It's a cut. It's not like you haven't seen one before."

It seemed he hadn't cooled off. Or she had made him angry again.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

Bolin looked at her then, his expression less severe, and then he dropped his head back and closed his eyes again. "Why are you in my room?"

He'd said the words as if she didn't belong there, as though it was off limits, like her presence was somehow an inconvenience. It had never been that way before.

"I need to talk to you," Korra explained.

With an enormous sigh, Bolin extended his left forearm and said, "Then help me up. Gently, this time."

Korra helped him up.

"I didn't mean to snap at you," he said. He propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head low. He was fidgeting. "I really didn't. I hope you know that."

"I know," Korra lied. "Are you okay?"

"Still alive," Bolin replied, the cynical tone back again. "Hooray."

"No, I'm being serious," Korra said. She grabbed at Bolin's wrist again but didn't pull. He looked up at her sharply, then dropped his gaze as though ashamed. "Are you okay?" Korra asked again. "Would you tell me if you weren't?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

Classic deflection, Korra thought. She wasn't sure if she should continue to press the matter. It obvious he was lying, or at least he wasn't coming straight out with the facts. He knew he wasn't okay. Any idiot could see that clearly just by looking at him. His posture, his tone, and everything else about him all pointed that way. He was just too stubborn to ask for help.

"We need to go out," Korra said. There was business at hand, and she needed to get him ready as soon as she could. "Let me start over. While you were in the hospital, Lin, Asami, and I went to go see the combustion bender who attacked you. We wanted to question him to see if we could get any information out of him."

Bolin looked up, curious now. "And?"

"He wouldn't talk. Even when I threatened him with the Avatar state and everything."

"Figures."

"I'm going to be plain with you, okay? And I don't mean that as an insult so don't give me that look and don't get all mad at me about it. I'm not trying to offend you. We want you to come talk to him. To the combustion bender. And we want you to get some answers out of him."

Bolin let out the most joyless laugh Korra had ever heard.

"I'm being serious."

"Yeah," he replied coldly. "What makes you think I'm going to be able to get anything out of him when _you_ couldn't? I mean, you're the Avatar. I've got nothing on you."

"You've got lavabending."

The icy laugh again.

"I'm being serious!"

Now Bolin looked offended, indignant, and all the sarcasm dropped from his voice. He sounded angry. "Are you crazy? I can't lavabend right now. I can barely stand up and you want me to go full out? What's wrong with you?"

"I saw you bend today," Korra reasoned, just as passionately. "You stood up on your own. You walked on your own. You moved well. And you've been that way for days. You're fine."

He raised his eyebrows at her in disbelief, looked skeptical, as if he really thought she had gone crazy. Then his expression relaxed and he locked eyes with her. "No. I'm not."

He spoke the words so evenly, so deadly serious, that Korra couldn't respond. It had been the first genuine thing he'd said to her in a long time, at least about his condition, and it told her all she needed to know. He really didn't think he could do it. He really wasn't okay.

Korra sighed. "Look," she started firmly, "I know you can do it. You're the only shot we've got at getting any information out of him. We _need_ you. Trust me, if we could do this without you, we would, but..."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Angry again.

"You _know_ what I mean." Korra felt herself growing angry now, too. He was being stubborn. He was too caught up in himself to listen to reason. "I need you to drop this _woe is me_ attitude and get with the program. We need your help! I'd love to ask someone else but we _can't_ ask someone else because you're the only person we know of that can..."

"Woe is me attitude?" Bolin had lost all the inflection in his voice again. He parroted the words directly, as if he couldn't believe she had said them at all. Then he repeated them again, the heat coming back. "Woe is me attitude?"

"All you've done for the last two weeks is sit in here and sulk and cry and complain!" Korra knew the words weren't true as soon as she'd said them. He hadn't complained once, not really, not unless someone hurt him, and even then, the complaints were no more than a groan or a yelp. She hadn't seen him cry. He'd been working hard to regain his strength. By all measures, he'd done everything he could to recover as fast as he could. By all measures, he'd probably been doing too much too soon. "All you've done for the last two weeks is sit in here and sleep and starve yourself and..."

"I think you need to leave."

Korra shut up at once. He'd said the words in a deadly way, with no expression on his face. He hadn't moved at all. He just stared at her as though waiting for her to go, like he was daring her to defy him.

"Bolin..."

"_Get out_."

"No."

He looked as though she'd water smacked him in the face. "What?"

"No," Korra repeated firmly. "I'm not leaving unless you come with me. You can hate me and be mad at me or whatever you want, but you're coming with me if I have to drag you out of here by that stupid shoulder of yours."

The silence lasted a long time. It lasted so long that Korra felt she might cry. He was just staring at her, and she could see very clearly the tendon flexing in his jaw.

"What do you want me to do?" Still angry. Still cold. But progress.

Very carefully, Korra explained. "Lin tried to question him. Her metalbenders tried to question him. I tried to question him. And all he would say was that he'd seen it all before. He's not afraid of our bending because he's seen it all before, and I believe him. I don't think there's a thing even I can do that would faze him at all."

She had hoped that Bolin would understand the meaning without her spelling it out directly, but the angry stare he had leveled on her said that he hadn't.

"We... I... I thought that you could do it. You're the only person we know of who can give the guy something new, something to be afraid of."

"I'm tired of people being _afraid_ of me."

"This guy tried to kill you," Korra pleaded. "This guy hurt you. He made you the way you are—"

The look again. The look that said she'd spoken out of line.

"You know what I mean! Please. I need you. We need you!"

"When."

"Lin wants to go today. As soon as possible."

Bolin shook his head in angry disbelief, his eyes dropped low. "Thanks for the warning."

But all the same, he pulled himself the rest of the way up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and got to his feet. Korra watched him move about the room, collecting his clothes and shoes, too afraid to say anything to him about how frail he looked. She could see every muscle moving as he walked, bent, and stood, tossed his jacket on the table. It was a strange thing, she thought, how someone could look both sick and strong at the same time. He had always been broad, yes, but he'd also been just slightly thick. Not anymore. All of that was gone.

If he cared that she was in the room he gave no indication. He pulled off his shirt left-handed and chucked it carelessly toward the corner nearest the door, walked to the table where he'd thrown his clothes, and grabbed a fresh undershirt. She didn't miss the slightly pained grunt when he pulled it over his head.

And then he was glaring at her again, shirt half on, and Korra felt her face grow hot.

"What are you staring at?" he snapped, then threw his arms wide in exasperation. "Something else you want to point out? Something else you want to insult?"

"Bolin..."

He pulled his shirt down and turned away without another word, grabbed the brace Asami had made for him from the table. Then, as coldly as ever, he said, "I need help."

Korra dared not argue. She was on her feet at once. She didn't need to be asked to know what he needed. But she wasn't sure exactly how to adjust the fit, either.

"It really was nice of Asami to make this for you," she said sheepishly as she messed with the device. "I didn't know she..."

"Stop. Just _stop_."

Again, Korra shut up and continued to adjust the straps as gently as she possibly could. Then, when she had regained some of her courage, she asked, "Is that okay?"

Bolin rolled his shoulder, flexed it a bit, and Korra watched. "Good enough," he said, and he grabbed his jacket from the table, put it on carefully, and zipped it up. Then he sat, pulled on his shoes, and once it seemed he was all dressed he rubbed at his face with his hands again. He sat that way for a while, all tense and quiet.

Korra wanted to ask if he was okay, but didn't want to upset him further. She wanted to help, but didn't know what to do.

But then Bolin was on his feet again, and though the anger was still plain on his face he seemed to have relaxed a bit. He stood still, staring at the floor, and drew a few breaths. Then, without a word, he hugged her.

Korra tensed immediately. She held her breath and squinted. It was the same as it had been, his arm around her, his hand on the back of her head. He was so warm. It felt the same. It felt electric.

"Listen," he whispered, and she could hear the strain in his voice. "I'm sorry. I really am. But I'm _angry_ at you. I'm constantly angry with everyone, even myself, and I don't know why. But right now, I'm angry with you, and I don't want you to look down on me for it." He sighed heavily and paused. "You asked me earlier if I'm okay, and I'm not. I'm really not, not at all. Maybe I _have_ been in here sulking and starving and crying, but I'm doing it because I don't want to snap at anyone again the way I just snapped at you or the way I snapped at Tenzin this morning. I know you're all just trying to help…And I try to fake normal as well as I can but I get tired. I can't cover it up all the time. I love you, Korra, and you're one of the best friends I've ever had, but..." He stopped, and Korra knew it wasn't another lapse. It wasn't that he had forgotten what he was going to say. He was trying to find the right words. "I need time. And I need space. And I need all of you to get off my back about it… And I need you to understand that."

She nodded into his chest. A lump of sadness had come to her throat.

"I heard you and Opal," he continued, and though the quality of his voice was just slightly stronger, the confusion seemed to have returned. He sounded uncertain, like he was concentrating too hard on what words to use. "On the night before I was attacked. I heard you talking about me, and I heard you both say how scared you were of me, and how you worried that I would hurt you. I remember that really clearly, and it's been in my head ever since."

Korra sobbed despite herself. She remembered the conversation, too, and it was never one that he was supposed to hear. She felt ashamed.

Bolin sighed and held her tighter. "I need you to know, right now, that I will _never_ hurt Opal and I will _never_ hurt you. No matter how mad I get at you for some of the stupid, thoughtless things you say to me, I'll never ever hurt you… And I don't mean the stupid, thoughtless things I say to you, either. I just can't control my mouth right now. I can't control my _anything_ right now. If a thought comes into my head, I say it before I can stop myself. If I have an impulse to do something, I do it before I can stop myself." He stopped again. Another tremendous sigh. "Look… I know I've been a jerk lately, but it's been a really bad month for me. A _really_ bad month. And that's not an excuse, but... I just need you to know I don't mean it. I don't mean any of it, and I hope you'll be able to forgive me."

Again, Korra nodded into his chest, and again she sobbed. But this time Bolin drew away from her, held her by the shoulders and looked down at her with a face full of regret. He looked sad, the way he had when he realized he wouldn't remember.

"Don't cry," he said, and the same as he had that night he brushed the tears from her cheek with his thumb. Then, with his hand still on her face, he kissed her in the middle of the forehead and hugged her again. "Please don't cry."

* * *

Author's Note: Brace sketch .


	18. Falling Apart

It surprised Korra how easily she and Bolin were able to leave Air Temple Island. Once she had composed herself, Bolin marched right out into the hallway and told the White Lotus guards that he was going for a walk to get some food, and the guards had asked no further questions. Korra wondered if it was because they truly didn't mind his leaving or if it was because of the stone-cold tone he'd taken with them. Whatever it had been, it worked.

He didn't say another word for the near hour it took to get to police headquarters. He didn't even look at her. Most of the ferry ride from Air Temple Island to the mainland he spent leaning against the railing, apparently spaced out and staring at the water, and he let Korra lead the way once they had disembarked. The whole while the same look stayed on his face, a look that seemed all at once frustrated and sad and tired and resigned, like being out of his room was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.

Lin and Asami met them at the door, and without much in the way of greeting, Lin shuffled them into a car to be on their way. Asami tried to make small talk at first, but when Bolin responded with shrugs and sighs and general apathy, she stopped. He seemed nonresponsive, all things considered, like his interaction with Korra earlier had taken all the energy out of him.

She hoped he'd be able to lavabend.

Korra was grateful when Lin parked the car outside of the familiar metal building. When they all got out, the chief began to speak. She could command Bolin's attention better than anyone, it seemed. She could at least match his attitude.

"I'm sure Korra explained the situation to you, so I'm not going to harp on about it," Lin said to Bolin as they approached the door, and he nodded. She waved away the metalbenders outside, and then opened the thick metal door to the cell's antechamber. Once everyone was inside, she continued. "Here's the deal: You've got free run. I don't care what you do, as long as it gets the guy to talk. We need to know what he's doing here, why he attacked you, if he has any connection to the people who did Ba Sing Se, and if there are plans to attack Republic City."

The look on Bolin's face sat somewhere between skeptic and smug. "You know this could tear up your building, right?" he asked coolly.

"Then tear up the building," Lin replied.

That seemed to be the end of the talk. Lin approached the cell door and bent it open, and she led them with little ceremony inside.

Korra wasn't sure what kind of reaction she'd expected from either Bolin or the combustion bender, who still sat in the same position he'd been in when she had come to talk to him. Bolin just stared at him for a while, as though sizing him up, and then he looked to Beifong and said, "This is the guy?"

Lin nodded.

"You guys going to stay in here for this?" Bolin asked.

"Figure we should," Lin replied, and when she looked to Asami and Korra for verification, they both nodded.

"Stay back then."

With one more sigh, a roll of the shoulders, and a pause to collect himself, Bolin marched purposefully forward. Even from halfway across the wide room Korra could see the combustion bender's face break into an enormous, snide smile.

"Well, if it isn't the world's most pitiful earthb-"

The rock caught him in the side of the head before he'd ever finished the sentence, a small stone Bolin had swept from the ground left-handed and flicked at him sidearm. He hadn't even broken stride.

"Shut up," Bolin snapped. "I'll tell you when it's time to talk."

Korra felt a nervousness rise in her, and it seemed by the worried expression on Asami's face and Lin's raised eyebrow that she wasn't the only one who found the reaction troubling. They both looked to her then, and Korra felt very small beneath their gazes. As if in explanation, she sheepishly said, "I made him mad before we left. I didn't do it on purpose."

"Well," Lin grumbled, "at least he's in the right place to take it out this time."

By this time, Bolin had reached the center of the room and was standing over the combustion bender with his arms crossed. Korra couldn't see Bolin's face, but she could imagine the look he must be wearing. She imagined it was the same look he'd given her when she told him to drop his _woe is me_ attitude earlier.

"Look," Bolin said sharply, "we can do this one of two ways. You can answer the questions nicely, or we can play dirty."

Bolin stood impassively as the combustion bender laughed at him. "What could you possibly do, little boy?" he said. "I beat you once, and now that I'm in chains you're here to threaten me. You're a real tough guy."

"Are you sure that's how you want to play this?" Bolin asked. His voice had gone all low and deadly again, and it sent another shock of anxiety through Korra's middle. "Because you should know that you attacked me on a _very_ bad day."

The combustion bender laughed again, and this time Korra could see the tension building in Bolin's posture. "Are you trying to save face in front of the ladies?" he mocked. "Putting on a show for the Avatar?"

"I don't need to put on a show for anyone," Bolin said. "Now, I'll ask one more time: Are we doing this the easy way or the hard way?"

"As hard as you can give it to me. Please," said the combustion bender.

With a shrug, Bolin turned a bit, looked at Beifong, and said, "You heard him, right, Chief?"

"I heard him," Lin called back, and though she still looked curious, her voice was all business. "Have at it."

Bolin turned back to the combustion bender and said, "You heard the lady."

Korra thought Bolin looked a little slow as he went about assuming his earthbending stance, like he was somehow uncertain about it, but when he planted his right foot and drew his hands upward, a four-foot pillar of earth shot up beneath the combustion bender, who sprawled clumsily down. When he righted himself atop the raised earth, he looked down at Bolin and smiled again.

"Is that all you've got, little earthbender?"

"You'll wish it was in a few minutes."

The combustion man laughed.

Korra saw Bolin give the tiniest shrug. He rubbed his right shoulder with his left hand as if checking to make sure it was still intact, and then he stepped back a fair distance from the pillar. With an enormous breath, he clapped his palms together and thrust his fingers toward the ground, drove them downward with the full force of his body. Beneath his hands the earth seemed to give way, it dipped and it rolled, and then it liquefied. Slowly, he drew his hands apart, pushing the lava outward and around the pillar, and it looked to Korra as though his manipulation of the earth was taking entirely too much effort. Then again, she had seen relatively little of Bolin's lavabending. She didn't know how effortful a task it was to begin with.

A glance toward the combustion bender told Korra that her earlier assumption had been right. He hadn't seen lavabending before; so few people _had_. He had no idea what was going on, no idea what the sudden heat was about. Korra could feel the shift in temperatures keenly herself, and she wasn't nearly as close to the danger as the combustion bender. He looked horrified. His face had screwed up in a mix of awe and terror as he stared down at the radiating, twelve-foot lava moat around his precarious perch, and the next time he looked at Bolin, his eyes had gone very, very wide in disbelief.

Meanwhile, Bolin had begun to pace, arms crossed again with his eyes on the ground surveying his work. "Okay," he said, and he sounded breathless, "now we can get started." He stopped pacing and looked up at the combustion bender. Now Korra _could_ see his face, and it had gone extraordinarily grave. "Here's how this is going to work. I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to give me an answer. If I don't like the answer, you're going to sink."

"You wouldn't dare!" the man cried, his bluster returned. "You can't scare me, little boy!"

Unamused, Bolin said, "Do you want that to be your first strike?"

The combustion bender spat. And then he dropped. He yelped pitifully.

"Oh," Bolin chided. "Now you're scared, huh? See, we didn't _have_ to do it this way, but you insisted. You have any idea what it feels like to have a dip in this stuff? You have any idea what it feels like to be touched by it _at all_?" He swept his hand low, motioning toward the liquefied rock, and when the combustion bender didn't respond, he said, "It's not pleasant. Trust me, I know. Now, question one: What's your name?"

Korra watched the man look between Bolin's unflinching glare and the lava, back to Bolin, to the lava, to Lin, to Korra, to the lava. Bolin had dropped the pillar's height by half, and that seemed to be too close for comfort for the cocky combustion man.

"You know what," Bolin said out of nowhere, "nevermind. Your name isn't important. Let's start with a better question. Why did you attack me?"

"I was given your name."

"Who gave you my name?"

"My master."

The pillar dropped another few inches, and the combustion bender yelped and clutched at its edges.

"Who gave you my name?"

"His Excellency, Guan, of the Democratic Society of Firebenders. He sent it through a telegraph."

Bolin glanced back at Lin, and Lin nodded her head. Then he turned back to the man again. "Why did he give you my name?"

"Because he wanted you dead."

Another few inches were gone.

"I don't know why! I just follow the orders I'm given!"

"Are there more of you in the city?"

"At least a dozen combustion benders. At least a hundred firebenders. More arrive every day."

Again, Bolin looked back at Lin, and this time he looked surprised. But Lin shrugged, and he continued. "Are they going to attack me again?"

The cocky laugh came back, but Bolin didn't drop the pillar. The bender lowered his gaze dangerously. "Once they realize that I'm gone and the job wasn't finished, you'll be dust and your fancy party trick here won't mean a thing."

A full foot came off the pillar this time, and when it had finished dropping only a small sliver of earth remained above the bubbling surface of the lava. As it fell, Asami grabbed Korra's hand and gripped it tight, and when Korra looked to her she wore a terrified expression, her eyes squinted like she was too afraid to look.

"I really don't want to drop you in there," Bolin said placidly. "But I will if I have to."

"Once His Excellency gives an order it's carried out, no matter the cost. You _will_ be attacked again, I guarantee it. And if anyone tries to stand in the way, they won't be spared either."

"Where is the guy who sent you? How can I find him?"

The combustion bender shook his head, a slightly frantic look about him now. He had gone pale, and Korra could see streams of sweat dripping down his face. He had tried to make himself as small as possible atop his tiny island. "I don't know where he is. He travels. He could be anywhere."

"Then where did the message come from?"

"The quarantine," said the bender, and when Bolin moved to drop the pillar again he shrieked. "It came from the quarantine!"

"Explain."

"It's the quarantine! Where they take new benders! Where they filter them and assign them to work."

"What kind of work?"

"Soldiers, laborers, liberators, I don't know! There are dozens of jobs!"

"Are you the same people who attacked Ba Sing Se? The people who caused the explosion?"

The combustion bender nodded, and Bolin looked exceptionally angry.

"It wasn't me!" cried the bender. "It wasn't me! I've been here for a month! I've been here waiting for orders!"

"Are your people going to attack this city?"

"It's planned, but I don't know when or how."

Bolin looked back to Lin one final time, and again she nodded. But this time, she jerked her head toward the door, and it seemed that Bolin understood. He planted his feet in the same way as he had to generate the lava, but this time instead of thrusting his hands toward the ground he extended them slowly, arms crossed at the wrists and fingers splayed wide, then pulled back. He balled his hands into tight fists, and the lava pool cooled and darkened, and by the time he stood straight it had been rendered little more than a smoldering heap of blackened rock.

With one last spiteful glance to the combustion bender, Bolin began the walk back to the door, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. He didn't look very well at all.

"You don't stand a chance!" the combustion bender yelled after him. "One way or another, you'll be taken down like the dogs you are!"

Bolin stopped mid-step, seething, and stood there for a time in the quiet.

"You heard me! You'll all be dead!"

With the slightest tilt of his head, as though contemplating briefly, Bolin about-faced and stormed back toward the combustion bender. Without so much as a word, he wound up, punched, and landed a right hook so powerfully into the man's temple that he toppled at once from the pillar, landing hard on his side on the still-warm ground. He lay limp and silent, and he did not move.

Bolin stood there for a second, then shook out his right hand and looked at it. He flexed his fingers, rolled his right shoulder again, and turned for the door. As he approached, rubbing his knuckles, he kept his eyes on the ground. Korra could see a tenseness in his body and the slightest tremble in his hands, and when he spoke to Lin his voice was breathless, cold, and quivering.

"Open the door."

Lin opened the door, dumbstruck, and Bolin walked past them and out of the room without another word.

Something wasn't right.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

Bolin had expected to be tired, but not so much. He'd expected to feel drained, but not like this. He couldn't catch his breath. His whole body ached, and he couldn't decide which was worse: the pounding in his head or the throbbing in his hand. He felt at once overheated and intensely chilled, dizzy and disoriented but with a clarity of thought and self-awareness that frightened him. Bolin recognized every sensation from the tingling of his skin to the trembling of his limbs, but he couldn't explain why it had come upon him so suddenly or so powerfully.

Instinct told him to hide. Instinct told him to find a place where no one could see him in such a sorry state of being, but he didn't have enough energy to look. It was all he could do to keep his feet, even leaning against the smooth metal wall of the anteroom. The cold felt good against his forehead. Everything else felt miserable. His clothes were sticking to his skin. His hand wouldn't stop hurting. His head wouldn't stop pounding. He wanted to take off his jacket.

"Bolin? Are you okay?"

He might've lied, had he thought of it. But he didn't think of it. He couldn't think of it. Everything had gone all fuzzy. He could barely hear the words over his own heaving breaths. He couldn't even tell whose voice it was.

"Are you okay?"

_No_. He wanted to say the word, but couldn't. He knew he couldn't, but didn't know why he couldn't.

Now his back was against the wall, though he didn't remember turning. Someone's hand was on his shoulder. The contact ached dully, but was nothing compared to his head. It was nothing compared to his hand. Bolin wondered fleetingly if it might've been a bad idea to punch the combustion bender.

"Bolin?"

He couldn't understand the word, but he understood the growing urgency in the voice that had said it. He understood the fearful tone but couldn't discern any meaning.

Bolin opened his eyes and squinted at the figure in front of him. It took a while for him to realize that he couldn't really _see_ them, and when the thought finally struck, it terrified him. When he realized how long it had taken him to realize, it terrified him even more. The form was blurry. The form was dark. Was it Korra? No. She'd been wearing blue, hadn't she? He strained to identify the color but couldn't get anywhere beyond _dark_. He hoped beyond hope that it wasn't Lin. He'd already embarrassed himself in front of her enough to last a lifetime.

"Your hand..." The voice said some words beyond that, but they sounded as garbled murmuring.

Automatically, he raised his right hand and looked at it. Blurry again. It didn't even look like his own. It was too pale. It was shaking horribly. When he turned it over the paleness was streaked with the brightest red he'd ever seen, like tiny floes of lava burning through the snow. It meant something, the red, but he didn't know what. Maybe it was why his hand hurt.

Was it even his hand?

Why did it hurt?

Why was it red?

He felt profoundly confused, but didn't recognize it as confusion. The self-awareness had gone, but he couldn't know it.

The voice spoke again, and this time there was no meaning at all. It sounded like some strange foreign language delivered in quavering, horrified tones. Bolin looked at the dark figure curiously. When had they gotten there? How long had they been speaking to him? Did they know he couldn't understand?

His right knee gave out and he fell, but he didn't know he'd fallen.

"Korra! Lin!"

A vague sense of knowing came into Bolin's mind. That hadn't been a call; it had been a mortified shriek. He knew he should have recognized the words. They should have carried meaning. They were important words.

He couldn't remember when he had laid down.

His hand hurt. And his head hurt. And he was cold.

He wanted to sleep.

As he slept, the boundary between consciousness and unconsciousness disappeared, and in its absence time passed inconsistently. Seconds felt like eons and minutes felt like the blink of an eye. Bolin woke once but couldn't open his eyes. He knew his head was on someone's lap, someone's hand was on his face. It was soft. It was a gentle touch. It was a loving touch. But they were shaking, they were afraid, and he didn't know who it was.

Then he was gone again.

The next time he woke his head was still on their lap. He could tell. He could _feel_ it, but he didn't know how. There was a familiar vibration, a rhythm in the body that he recognized. Their hand was on his ribs now. Someone had taken off his jacket, but its weight rested atop him like a blanket. There were more sensations, too. There was a bumpiness that told him he wasn't laying still. There was the sound of frantic conversation. There was a heaviness in the air.

He fought hard to open his eyes. The light hurt. He closed them against it.

"Bolin?"

It was Asami. It was her hand. It was her voice that had shrieked.

"Is he awake?"

"Bolin? Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

He wanted to answer, but he didn't know how to make the words. What came out of him was a jumble of incomprehensible sounds, or at least that's what it sounded like to him. It was as though all the stupidity and brainlessness of the days after the collapse had come back in full, worse than they had ever been before. He couldn't even speak.

Suddenly someone grabbed his arm. Someone was patting him on the face none too gently. "Look at me!"

It was Korra. He could feel her. But he couldn't look at her. She felt angry. He couldn't keep his eyes open. He was too tired.

"When was the last time you ate? Bolin!"

He was gone before she could finish the words.

The third time he woke there was an unfamiliar wetness on his face, a soft warmth around his neck. His feet were cold. His hand still ached, but there was a pressure that hadn't been there previously and the sting had gone. There were people talking somewhere in the distance. Something licked his cheek and chittered angrily.

"Come here, Pabu."

The warmth went away, but he recognized Asami's voice clearly, and the moment she sat beside him he could _feel_ her again. She had calmed. She wasn't shaking anymore. Firm of hand, she felt his face, pressed her fingers against his throat. Then she sighed.

"Is he still gone?"

"I guess. Pabu was going crazy so I came to check."

He heard a familiar cry of frustration. "I'm never leaving him alone again!"

"It's not your fault, Korra."

"I should've noticed! I mean, how many hours did I spend with him? How many days? We ate lunch together like five times! Well, at least _I_ ate lunch and he was _there_. How could I _not_ have noticed it? Tenzin is going to kill me!"

"It's _not_ your fault."

"Never again. He's going to eat if I have to shove it down his throat."

Was that it? Had he forgotten again? Was that what had happened?

Asami heaved another enormous sigh and stood, but Bolin didn't want her to go. He didn't want to be alone.

He tried to think of what to say. He tried to think of what words would placate Korra. He tried to think of what words would make up for how badly he had frightened Asami. There had to be something, something beyond _I'm sorry_ that would make amends for trouble he'd been causing everyone lately.

He groaned. And then he hated himself for being so inarticulate.

All the same, it seemed the noise had been enough. At once Asami was back beside him, closer now, and he could feel her excitement. Her heart was racing. He heard Pabu chitter madly again.

"Bo?"

All he could do was groan.

"Korra!"

Then he could feel Korra. She was angry. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew beyond a doubt that she was furious. He could feel her breathing. But she sat him up gently and crossed her legs beneath his shoulders, and she held him firm.

"Come on..." Asami begged. Bolin didn't know what she was talking about. "Come on..."

She pressed something like a glass to his mouth and tipped it up. She kept begging, and before he could taste what it was, he drank. It was disgusting, whatever it was. It was too sweet, and it dropped into his stomach like a ten-ton boulder. It made him want to retch. But he drank it all the same, and did so greedily and instinctively, without any conscious thought at all. Then it was gone.

Then he was gone.

"...Zaofu..."

"...can't send him away..."

"What about Mako? ...about the search?"

The words had come through so strong that Bolin thought he was dreaming. But all his dreams lately had been terrible nightmares. This wasn't terrible. It was just talking.

"I'm not keeping him here. He's got a big fat target on him and now I've got to worry about preventing an attack on the city. I can't protect everyone at the same time!"

"But what about the flyovers?"

"You girls can do them. You can take Jinora instead."

What were they talking about?

"We don't need three airbenders."

"And what happens if we find Mako?"

"You bring him back and it's a pleasant surprise."

What were they talking about?

"It's not fair to send him away. Not without talking to him about it. He should have a say in what he does."

"He lost his say when he starved himself half to death."

"That's not fair."

"What's not fair about it? None of us has the time to babysit him all day and night. I've got the city to worry about. You've got the investigation into the Boiling Rock prison, and now it's on the Firelord's orders. We've got to follow up on what the combustion bender said. There's not time for his drama."

"And Su has time for his drama?"

"She's got a heck of a lot more of it than I do."

His hold on consciousness was stronger this time than it had been before, and he recognized the voices clearly. He understood the words and could make meaning out of them, but he remained confused. What about Mako? _Finding_ him? Had he imagined that? And what about Zaofu? Who were they sending away?

Bolin opened his eyes but he didn't move. He fought to gain his bearings.

He was in an enormous room with ornate, vaulted ceilings and pillared walls that he recognized at once. This was Asami's office at Future Industries. He was laying on her couch. He'd laid on this couch a thousand times before, but it had never felt quite so comfortable. It had never felt quite so warm. Someone had undressed him, at least partly. His jacket was gone and he couldn't remember losing it. His feet were bare but he couldn't remember taking off his boots.

He felt a rustling on his stomach, the pressure of tiny feet digging into his skin. He looked down to see Pabu adjusting himself into a new position, and somehow a comfortable relief flooded through him.

Whatever had happened was over.

He was safe.

"...on their way to get his things. They'll be over in a while. I called Tenzin, too."

"Mad?"

"Furious. But I took the fall. Told him it was my order to come along, and to be fair, it was. You could've told him that we were going, though, instead of lying."

"He was the one that lied to the guard. I just followed him out."

"Still could've said something."

"Sorry, but he'd just finished yelling at me, so I wasn't going to argue."

Bolin tried to pull himself up, but had to stop halfway. Even propped on his elbows his muscles didn't want to hold his weight. His arms started trembling, and when he tried to adjust they gave out entirely. He dropped back down with a breathy grunt, and Pabu bolted upright and whined at him.

He tried again. And he fell again.

"Lin!"

He was on the third try when he noticed them staring at him from across the room. He stared back, confused. Lin looked angry, Korra looked surprised, and Asami wore a smile so big it looked like her face would split.

"Lay down, you idiot."

He didn't lay down. He just stayed propped on his elbow, staring.

"Lay down or I'll put you down."

"Be nice, Lin!"

Bolin wasn't sure if he should've been thankful for Asami's scolding, but she had done it all the same, and as soon as she'd said the words she bolted toward him. The suddenness of her movement disoriented him, and he had to close his eyes.

"You scared me so much," she cried, and then her arms were around him, holding him upright in a hug so tight it hurt. "Don't ever scare me like that again!"

He didn't know what to say.

When Asami pulled away from him, a worry had creased her forehead. Her eyes were wet. "You can understand me this time, can't you?"

He nodded very slowly.

She hugged him again. "I thought you were dying!"

To be fair, he'd thought he'd been dying, too.

"What happened?" The words took entirely too much effort to say, but not because of his mind. The words had come easily enough, but he felt so drained physically that even moving his mouth felt like an insurmountable task. He reclined weakly on the arm of the sofa, half upright, and for a second he covered his eyes. His head was still pounding. The light was making it worse.

"You passed out."

It was Korra who'd said the words, and she didn't look happy.

"That's one way to describe it," Lin added dryly.

He didn't want to look at them. So he looked at his hand instead. Someone had wrapped a pristine white bandage from his knuckles to his elbow, but the tiniest hint of red had bled through. He flexed his fingers and wrist, and looked at it again.

"You split your hand open," Asami said. "It was ugly, but Korra healed it a bit."

"I hit the metal plate," Bolin corrected. He sounded slow again, just slightly drowsy. "On his forehead."

"How do you feel?" Asami asked.

"Bad."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

She looked over her shoulder and shrugged, seemingly at a loss. But then Korra stood up, and Bolin could tell at once by her posture alone that he was about to get an earful.

"You self-centered jerk!" she yelled. "How could you? How could you scare us like that and then have the nerve to-"

"Korra..."

"You could have _died_! And all because you're too stupid and caught up in your-"

"Korra, stop."

The tenderness in Lin's tone startled him, and it seemed to have startled Korra as well. It wasn't a tone she took often, but it had made Korra stop mid-word and stare at her.

"Stop. And if you can't stop, go cool off somewhere else. We don't need the yelling."

In a huff, Korra left, and she slammed the door behind her so hard that Asami winced. With an enormous sigh, Lin heaved herself to her feet and followed without explanation. Bolin didn't know what to say. The silence left in their wake felt thick and uncomfortable. Even Pabu was quiet.

"She was really worried," Asami said in a small voice, and then she looked at him sincerely. "We were all really worried. You're not a guy that just...Passes out like that."

Ashamed, Bolin looked down. Pabu was licking his finger affectionately. When Asami didn't press the point, he felt thankful. She rose and crossed the room, and when she returned she pressed a cup into his hands.

"Drink this. Please. It'll help."

Bolin looked into the cup. It was thick and orange and entirely unappetizing. "What is it?"

"Just drink it."

"No?"

Asami snatched the cup from his hand and drank from it, and then with a look of satisfaction she handed it back. "See?" She said. Bolin thought she was talking to him like she'd talk to Rohan. "It's not that bad."

Bolin drank. And his nose curled up in disgust.

"I know you don't like lychee but it's all I had. I tried to mix it to make-"

"It's fine."

The silence fell again like a veil and Asami sat heavily back down, closer to him this time. She practically landed on top of his feet. Between tentative sips, Bolin stared at his knees. At least Pabu was there to keep him company this time. At least Pabu wouldn't judge him. And at least Asami sitting on his feet was keeping them warm now.

"Lin wants to send you to Zaofu."

"What?" he snapped, suddenly at attention, and the look on his face must've startled Asami because she recoiled. He knew the tone in his voice had startled Pabu, as he jumped frantically to Asami's shoulder. "What do you mean, _Lin wants to send me to Zaofu_? For what? Why?"

Asami stammered, and Bolin knew he'd flustered her. He felt her tense up through his feet. It must've been his tone. He must've sounded angrier than he thought he had.

"I'm sorry," he said. He dropped his head low again. It seemed like he was apologizing to everyone for everything lately. "I didn't mean to snap. I really didn't."

"Korra told me you've been..." Asami paused, fidgeted, and stared at her fingers. She'd trailed off like she couldn't think of a delicate enough word. "She told me you've been that way."

"What way? Stupid? Pitiful? A jerk? An idiot? Take your pick."

"You're not stupid. And you're not pitiful. You're not a jerk. And you're not an idiot."

Bolin laughed despite himself, and it didn't sound to him as normal. It was frigid and joyless and altogether cynical. "Right."

"You shouldn't talk like that," Asami said directly. "It doesn't suit you."

He shut up. He didn't understand. Even Korra had called him a jerk. Even Korra hadn't said anything when the cynicism came out full force. It was like Asami was scolding him. But she had done it softly. She had done it kindly. She wasn't angry with him. She didn't feel angry.

"Why?" Bolin asked again, and this time his voice was small, too. "Why does Lin want to send me away?"

Asami sighed. "She has a lot of reasons. And some of them are really good reasons, too. I guess when it comes down to it, she doesn't think you're getting better."

He drank to cover the disgusted look on his face. What was he supposed to say to that?

"Korra doesn't think you're getting better, either."

Now he glared at her again. "How? She's been training me every morning for the last week!"

"I know, Bolin. I know. Now, stop yelling at me. I'm on your side."

"There shouldn't be a _side_ at all!"

Asami kept quiet for a while, lifted Pabu off her shoulder and placed him back down on Bolin's knee. She looked like she was thinking. Then she said, "I came to visit you a lot." She sounded sad. "You know that. I hope you remember that. But every time I came, I kept my mouth shut. I didn't make you talk and I didn't make you listen to me talk. I wanted you to take your time and speak up when you were ready. I didn't want to push you."

Bolin didn't know what to say. What _could_ he say?

"But I'm going to speak up now, and I want you to listen. I'm not going to ask you not to get angry. That wouldn't be fair. But I will ask you not to yell at me anymore. Can you agree to that?"

He nodded. The lychee juice sat heavily in his stomach. He couldn't have said anything if he'd wanted to. He was too nervous. Asami had never taken this tone with him before, a tone that was all at once affectionate and terse and loving and annoyed. He would have said that she sounded like Opal when Opal was upset, but it wasn't the same.

"I'm not going to try to tell you what you should and shouldn't be doing. That's not my place. But from what I've seen lately, you're _not_ making progress. You're _not_ getting better." She looked him in the eye, and the expression made his stomach jerk. It was like she was looking through him. "You're getting _worse_. Yeah, I know that you can get up and move. You can bend again. You can talk. But you're not the same. It's like you're a completely different person and I don't know why, and I don't know what I can do to help, so I've just been sitting around waiting for you to speak up and _say_ what you need. But you haven't. To anyone."

"Asami, I-"

She held up her hand, and Bolin went quiet again. "I'm not trying to make you explain yourself. But you deserve to know these things. You _need_ to know these things, and I don't think anyone is going to tell you except for me. I mean, Korra didn't even _talk_ to you for a week after you were attacked, she didn't even visit you, and I don't know what that was all about. I couldn't say your name without her looking like she was going to cry or puke or..." She breathed deeply. "The point here is that maybe you're recovering physically, but mentally? Emotionally? You haven't made any improvement at all, and everyone is really worried. I mean, it goes beyond worry. We're _scared_. We don't know what's going on with you because you won't tell anyone. We can't help you because you won't tell us what you need."

Pabu whimpered, and Asami went all tense. Bolin could feel her nervousness, but he didn't know how. She had kept a straight face, had maintained her posture. But there was _something_...

"It's really hard for me to say this, okay? And this is the part that I'm scared you'll yell at me about. But _I_ think you're not getting better because you don't know how. You've been falling apart ever since we went to the South Pole, and you don't know how to put yourself back together because you've never had to do it before. That's what I think. But Korra and Lin? And Tenzin? And pretty much everyone _except_ for me? They think you're not getting better because you don't _want_ to."

The indignation welled up again. The anger welled up again, but Bolin kept quiet. He promised he wouldn't yell. He promised he wouldn't snap at her, and he meant to make good on that. So he sat and stared at his empty cup, at Pabu nestling on his middle, and clenched his jaw.

"I don't know what to think about that," Asami went on, and her voice was barely above a whisper now. "They just told me that today, and I..." Another sigh. "I don't want to believe that they're right. But then Korra told me that you said something the other day that freaked her out, and then she told me that-"

"What did she tell you I said?"

Asami shook her head. Her heart was pounding but she still spoke plainly. "I don't remember exactly what it was. Something about you being ashamed of something and that you wanted to die."

He remembered exactly what he'd said. He remembered it clearly. He'd said that he'd been so ashamed of losing control in front of Lin and Su that he wished he could die. The thought had scared him, yes, but he hadn't considered it much beyond that. He'd convinced himself that it was just an intrusive thought. He hadn't realized that it had scared Korra, too. At any rate, there was nothing Bolin could do to refute her. He'd said the words as plain as day.

Asami continued, more tentative now, more nervous. "And then she told me you haven't been eating, and that's why you fainted today. You know, at first I thought, 'He must've just skipped breakfast,' and then you lavabent and I know that takes a lot out of you on a _good_ day, and I figured the combination must've just been too much so soon. But she told me that it went beyond that. _Days_, Bolin. She said it'd been going on for _days_. She said it's been going on since you were moved to Air Temple Island, and that was almost two weeks ago. And... I didn't think anything about you not eating while you were in the hospital because nobody really has an appetite when they're in a hospital, and I didn't really think about it when I brought you food because I figured you'd already eaten and just weren't hungry. I didn't know I was so wrong. How could I have known?"

Bolin hoped the question had been rhetorical.

"So, I'm going to ask you straight. When was the last time you had anything to eat?"

"Last night."

"What was it?"

"Pema brought me a steam bun."

"_A_ steam bun. What else did you have yesterday?"

"Nothing."

"The day before yesterday?"

"I don't remember."

Asami dropped her face into her hands and sighed. "And _that's_ why Lin wants to send you to Zaofu."

"It's not on purpose," Bolin argued. "It wasn't like I was _trying_ to-"

"Then why?"

He didn't know. He really didn't know. He'd had too much else on his mind. He'd just forgotten. He hadn't realized. He felt ashamed again.

"Maybe you weren't trying. Maybe not on purpose. But something somewhere in your head made you stop eating and I mean... We were going to take you back to the hospital, but Lin said that was too risky considering what happened last time, and that we should try to get something in you and use the hospital as a last resort. You were _completely_ nonresponsive for four hours. Do you know how terrifying that was?"

He didn't. He'd been unconscious.

"Do you think I should go?" Bolin asked. His voice was quivering again. "To Zaofu?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Lin is going to have her hands full, based on what the combustion guy said. And Korra and I... Well..."

"You're going to go do something for the Firelord," Bolin finished for her. "I heard you talking about it."

Asami's face went instantly pale, and she stared at him wide-eyed. "You heard that?"

"Yeah, I heard."

"Well, we've got to go do that, so we won't be around to take care of you. Su has to go back to Zaofu in a couple days anyway. Tenzin's going to lose his mind if you keep snapping at him. Part of me wants to say, 'yes, go to Zaofu,' but I really don't know. If I thought you would...If I thought you _could_ take care of yourself I'd say to stay here."

"You don't think I'll take care of myself?"

"I didn't say that," Asami said, but Bolin could feel the nervousness mounting in her again. It was stronger this time. "That's not what I meant. I just worry that..."

He finished the sentence for her, deadpan. "That I'm going to kill myself."

"No!" Asami had yelped like his words had surprised her. "No! I don't think that at all! Nobody ever said that!"

The room went all quiet, and for the longest time Bolin just looked at her. He stared at her face gone neutral again, trying to read her. Something was off. He could feel it, and now that he thought about it he had felt the changes in her mood the whole time she'd been sitting on the couch with him. He'd felt her coming to the pavilion that morning, a time that felt like years ago. Now he thought on it, he'd known about Korra's nervousness, too. He'd felt it the same way. And her anger. And her frustration. The strangest sensation had come over him, a knowing without knowing how.

"Who said it?" he asked coldly.

Asami went paler still. "Nobody said anything like that! Why would anyone say anything like that?"

He knew. He didn't know how he knew. Maybe it was the look on her face. Maybe it was the tone of her voice. Maybe it was the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't pinpoint it, but he knew that he knew. "You tell me," he said. "Why _would_ someone say that about me?"

It seemed that she was trying not to look afraid.

"Nevermind," Bolin said, and he looked back at Pabu and poked at his stomach a bit. Pabu chittered happily. He tried to sound relaxed. "I believe you."

She calmed a bit and shifted uncomfortably beside him. "I should go check on Korra and Lin. And Su and Opal were going to come by with some things for you to stay the night here." She stood and collected the empty cup from Bolin's hands. "Figured it'd be better for you to just rest here instead of going all the way back to Air Temple Island. They're going to bring some dinner for all of us, if you'll have some."

Bolin watched her carefully as she approached the door, and on a whim, he mustered all his strength, sat up, and planted his feet firmly on the floor. "Asami?" He called, and she turned around. "Do you think I'm going to be okay? Really?"

She smiled, and it looked to Bolin like a genuine smile. "Of course I do."

Somehow, Bolin knew.

She was lying.


	19. The Horrible Truth

Bolin lay on the couch for a long time after Asami left, his mind a jumble of anger and confusion and indignation. How could they all get things so wrong? All of them had assumed to know things that they could never hope to imagine. They were all trying to read more into his head than what ever existed there.

The things Asami said had stung, and Bolin couldn't be sure if he was more upset about the truths she had told or more upset that she had lied to his face about what everybody thought of him. After all, wasn't that the most important truth of them all? That they were scared? That they were worried that he'd gone so far off the deep end that he'd end up dead? That they were all too afraid of him and what he might do to say to his face that they thought he'd kill himself?

He sighed and tried to think about what he had done to give them the impression that he'd been contemplating such drastic measures. Sure, he'd not been eating, but that was more often than not because he simply forgot, and since waking after the collapse he'd had no real appetite anyway. It didn't matter. Every time he ate he felt like throwing it back up. It wasn't like he was trying to punish himself or hurt himself or something. He was just _sick_. And maybe he'd said things that had alarmed people, but that was only because the filter between his brain and his mouth hadn't reset itself, and whatever came into his mind came out of his mouth before he could stop it. He figured everyone knew that, considering the strange, incoherent, and often completely out of character things he'd been saying to them. Besides, actions spoke louder than words, and he hadn't _done_ anything that might make someone think he would hurt himself.

Except for the lashing out at people...

And acting constantly angry...

And acting constantly sad...

And sleeping all the time...

And forgetting to eat...

And avoiding people...

Uncontrollable cynicism...

Having nightmares...

Fainting...

A cold shock shot through his middle and hung heavy in his chest. Suddenly, he found himself wondering if the intrusive thoughts hadn't necessarily been _intrusive_. Maybe they had always been there. Maybe they had just come to the front of his mind as a result of recent events.

Maybe it was true.

As he sat there, staring idly at Pabu sleeping, he considered for the first time that things could very well be worse than he'd thought. He considered for the first time that things may have gone beyond his control. Maybe Asami had been telling the truth. Maybe the others had picked up signals that he never meant to send and didn't ever know he was sending. Maybe it was all subconscious.

It made sense. He hadn't felt good in what seemed like forever. He always felt heavy, like enormous weights had been tied to his arms and legs. The simple acts of standing and walking and talking and _moving_ had all begun taking tremendous effort, like they had his first few days out of the hospital. He was miserable. He'd been miserable ever since his brain came back. And the longer he felt miserable and tired and angry the less he cared about doing anything at all. It had become so hard for him to motivate himself that even getting out of bed in the mornings to go train with Korra had become difficult.

But Korra… She didn't have to yell at him like that. She didn't have to call him a jerk and tell him that he was sulking and generally insult him. And Lin didn't have to send him to Zaofu. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself: He'd just scared the combustion bender who attacked him into confessing secrets that not even the Avatar could get out of him. And Tenzin didn't have to try to ground him to his room.

It was no wonder he felt so bad about himself with everyone ganging up on him. It was no wonder he hated himself with everyone treating him like a brain-dead child.

It was all Korra's fault. If she hadn't said anything to Asami then no one would have thought anything was wrong. If she hadn't planted the idea in their heads and given them something to watch for, they wouldn't have seen anything. And they only interpreted what they'd seen as they had because they were watching so closely for something that didn't exist. Everything he'd done recently, even the snapping and avoiding people and starving, it was all a result of the collapse. It was all _physical_; it was all out of his hands. He couldn't control his body. He could scarcely control his conscious thoughts, let alone the subconscious signals his addled brain was sending out. How could they blame him for that? How could they punish him for that? How could they fault him for considering a way out?

The anger drove him to his feet, all his exhaustion forgotten. He didn't even move Pabu before he got up to march in a rage toward the door, and the fire ferret whined after he dropped to the floor. All Bolin could think about was how badly Korra had betrayed him. It was all her fault. She should've kept her mouth shut. He should've been able to confide in her without worrying that she'd go spilling his business to others. He would never have done that to her. He needed to have a word with her. He needed a strong word. He needed to tell her to mind her own business and to stop spreading lies and to leave him alone. He didn't need her help. He didn't _want_ her help, especially if it meant that everyone thought he was going to _kill himself_. Never mind waterbending. Never mind meditation and focus and training. He didn't need it. He didn't need anyone, and he was going to let them know it.

"Bolin? You should be lying down! You can't be up right now! Are...Are you okay?"

He'd barely entered the hall when Asami cried the words from the doorway of the room adjacent. He was too caught up in his anger to hear the concern in her voice. "Didn't you just tell me that you weren't going to tell me what I should or shouldn't do?" he snapped. "Ten minutes ago you said that, or are you too dumb to remember?"

She stared at him. He couldn't read her face, but he could feel her nerves springing back up. "I think you should go lay back down."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

Wide eyed, Asami bolted into the room, and Bolin made to follow her inside. But then Korra and Lin appeared, and neither of them looked pleased. For a few moments too long they stood in the hallway staring like they were trying to get a read on the situation, and every second Bolin spent glaring at Korra, his anger multiplied. It filled him, gave him energy, obscured his mind, and by the time he began shouting there wasn't a coherent thought anywhere to be found.

"This is your fault!" he yelled. "All of this is _your_ fault and-"

"My fault?" Korra interrupted, confused. "How is any of this my fault? You're the one-"

"You can't keep your fat Avatar mouth shut!"

Korra's eyes went wide. She looked scandalized. And then she blew up, too. "You _must_ be brain damaged! I've done nothing but help you since you woke up!"

"You've done nothing but _avoid me_ since I woke up!"

"Kids," Lin said calmly, and she moved to step between them. "You both need to-"

"Shut up!"

They had roared the words at her as one, and Bolin paused in his tirade only long enough to watch Lin slide back toward the wall with an alarmed look about her. Then he went back to Korra. "I can't believe you! You're disgusting! You get everyone all worked up and set them against me and now they-"

"I got everyone all worked up? _I_ did that? You're the one exploding at everyone! You're the one setting everyone against you! You're the one starving yourself to death and expecting nobody to do anything about it!"

"That's not your business! What I do-"

"How is it not my business? You're my friend!"

"I don't need friends! I need you all to leave me alone and let me-"

"Let you what, Bolin? Self-destruct? You're doing a _fine_ job of that! It doesn't matter what we do! It doesn't matter how much we tell you we care because you're too caught up in feeling sorry for yourself to care back!"

"I'm _hurt_, Korra!"

"Then let us help you!"

"I don't need your help! I don't need anyone's help! I need you to leave me alone and stop making everyone think-"

"I'm not making anyone think anything!"

"_You're_ not thinking anything!"

"What does that even mean?"

"If you had thought at all about the things you say to people then I wouldn't be in this mess! If you thought about it for half a minute you'd see that everything you think is going on with me is _completely_ wrong and _completely_ made up and _completely stupid!_"

Korra seemed to go soft, and Bolin stared at her. "What are you even talking about?" She looked mad and confused. He could feel her anger.

"What do you mean, _what am I talking about?_ Don't play dumb with me." Bolin's voice had gone quiet and hoarse. His throat hurt from the yelling. His head hurt again, and his ears were thumping as his heart pounded. The exhaustion was catching back up. It drained him fast. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You told Asami what I said and she told everyone else what I said and now everyone thinks I'm going to…"

He couldn't force out the words. They got caught, and he faltered.

"You can't seriously think that's my fault," Korra said, incredulous. "I was _worried_ about you! You can't get mad at someone for being worried about you! I was scared! You can't just say you wished you were dead and then-"

"It was hypothetical!" Bolin roared. He hadn't wanted her to say the words either.

"It was not!"

The screaming started again.

"Don't you think for a _second_ that you know what's going on in my head!"

"_You_ don't even know what's going on in your head!"

"Maybe not, but at least I'm not bothering anyone else with it! At least I'm keeping it to myself!"

"That's the problem!"

"It's only a problem because you're making it a problem!"

Korra stopped then, and her posture relaxed as though all the fight had gone out of her. It should have been a jarring change, but Bolin didn't relax. He couldn't relax. All the tension had wound up inside him and it wouldn't go away. He could barely even breathe.

"Is that really what you think?" Korra asked. The confusion seemed to be outweighing the anger now. There was a distinct concern about her, a tenderness that, if he'd had his head about him, would have been profoundly alarming. "Really? You think that just because you keep it to yourself that it's not a problem?"

Bolin seethed.

"Listen to yourself," Korra reasoned. "Do you understand what you're saying?"

"I know exactly what I'm saying."

"Then how could you possibly not understand why we're worried?"

"Because what I do to myself is none of your business!"

Korra took a very deep breath. "So what you're telling me is that if some morning you don't show up to training and I go to your room and find you unconscious or _dead_ that it's _not my business_? Is that it?"

Bolin didn't want to agree with her out of sheer blind stubbornness.

"Would you rather we had left you there? Would you rather we'd left you lying on the floor in that prison? Because if we had then it wouldn't be a _hypothetical_. If we had left you there you _would_ have died, no question about it."

"Good!"

He didn't know why he said it. He hadn't even _said_ it: He'd spat it out like a curse. He was just so angry he couldn't control it. But the moment the word had come out he felt a heat wash over him, an embarrassment that made him regret that he'd ever left the couch. It was the same embarrassment he'd felt when he realized what he'd done to Su and Lin. It was exactly the same, all full of self-loathing and shame and the insurmountable desire to crawl into a hole and die. He didn't consider the irony. All he could do was stand there and feel Lin and Asami staring stupefied at him, and watch Korra's disgusted face watching him back. The silence itself was unnerving even without their disbelieving expressions. It hung like death. There were witnesses. It was traumatic. He'd confessed.

He wasn't expecting Opal's voice to ring out behind him, much less for it to sound so happy.

"You're awake!"

He certainly wasn't ready to catch her. He was still too stunned by what he'd said to register that she was coming at him. But Opal didn't know that, she couldn't have known that, and she rushed at him and threw herself against him the same as she had done every time she'd seen him for the last four years.

It was the first time he didn't catch her.

Instead, his legs buckled awkwardly under her weight and he fell.

The pain hit him at once, a pain so visceral that it radiated through the whole of his body. He felt it in his stomach so heavily that he thought he might be sick, and a dull, intense throb stabbed him deep in the middle of his back. It took his breath away. His shoulder had come out. He knew the sensation too well. He must've tried to catch himself when he fell, but he didn't remember it. He didn't remember when it came out. He barely remembered falling.

Instinct drove the next minutes. As soon as he'd come to and realized what had happened he pushed himself up left-handed, then drove his back toward the wall. Knees up, he wrenched his limp elbow onto his thigh and pushed against it with his body, but he was too weak. It wouldn't go back in. He couldn't get the leverage. He didn't have the strength to force it. He could feel the bones grinding against each other, the flesh twitching in spasms of agony.

As he struggled he noted the absolute quiet. No one said a word. No one moved a muscle. They were staring at him. He could tell. They were afraid. He could feel it. But he hadn't made a noise either, and now that he recognized he had an audience he strained even more to struggle in silence.

But then Lin dropped beside him, she practically dove to the ground, and she pushed him upright against the wall so hard he smacked his head against it. He hadn't known he'd slumped down so far. "I swear if you fight me I'll lay you out."

He didn't know what she did. His head was swimming, and for the tiniest moment the pain multiplied so that he saw stars even with his eyes closed. He thought for certain he'd pass out again. Then the brace was gone. Then there was an enormous pressure and blinding pain. Then his shoulder was back in. It should have been magical, it should have been relief, but everyone was still staring at him with looks of disgust and disbelief.

He'd confessed, and he didn't even know why he'd done it.

As soon as the feeling came back to his arm he clapped his hands behind his head, fingers locked tight at the base of his skull, and forced his face down to his knees. He dropped his elbows low, pressed them inward as hard as he could. He felt himself trembling again. It was inevitable. He could feel it. He was going to fall apart and everyone was watching him.

They couldn't see it.

He had to hide.

He had to hold it in.

They kept staring, and all he wanted was to be left alone.

"Bolin, I'm so sorry!" Opal sounded like she was going to cry. She dropped down in front of him. He felt a gentle thump as she moved toward him. "I'm so, so sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"

He didn't know how, but he knew she was reaching for him. She wanted to touch him. She always wanted to touch him. But if she did, he would break. If she made contact it would be the end. If she touched him, he would fall apart in front of everyone. They couldn't see. He didn't want them to see.

He had to make them go away.

"Don't touch me, Opal."

He didn't know how she heard the words. He didn't even know how he made the words. They had come out a low, feral growl between heaving breaths. But it worked. She drew away from him. She was horrified. He could feel it.

Even Lin had recoiled.

Good.

Now they might go away.

The horrible silence fell again, and all Bolin could hear was the sound of his own uncontrolled breathing, sharp and shallow and dizzying. He knew they could hear it, too, and he tried to hold it in but that only made it worse.

Asami tried next. She stepped forward more tentatively than Opal had. "Come on, now," she said. Her voice was soft again, the same as it had been before but with the slightest quiver. "Let's get you back lying down. You'll feel better once you..."

He was too focused on holding himself together to realize that she had reached out for him, too. It felt like he was going to explode, and if he lost focus for even half a second everything would come pouring out in one violent burst.

Then she touched his arm.

"Leave me alone!"

Bolin had never known he was capable of producing such an enormous noise. The words had come out of him so loud that his voice cracked. It had been aggressive, desperate, threatening, and deafening. It startled him, and he drew himself in tighter, ashamed.

But it worked. Asami jumped back. Korra jumped back and she hadn't even been close. He'd frightened them as much as he'd frightened himself. He held his breath to stifle a sob. His face felt so hot. The pressure inside amplified.

"Girls, go on. You, too, Lin, keep an eye on them." It was Su. He hadn't even known she was there: He hadn't felt her. He wanted to throw up but there was nothing in him. "I'll take care of him. Go on now, I mean it."

They left. Bolin felt them retreat back into Asami's office, and he heard the tiniest click as the door latched shut. He heard Opal burst into hysteric tears. He heard Pabu scratching at the wood. But Su was still there. She was still standing there staring at him all curled up and trembling like an idiot. Of all the people to stay there, why did it have to be her?

She moved slowly, with such a softness of step that he could scarcely feel her moving at all. But then she slid down the wall to his left and sat so close beside him that her shoulder was touching his. His skin felt cold against her arm. He could feel the violence in his shaking.

"I know you don't want anyone here," she said. Her voice was just above a whisper, a tone she most certainly meant to calm him. But he just shook harder. He had to hold it in. She was pitying him. He hated her. "I know you don't want anyone to see you like this, but I'm not going to leave you by yourself. I can't leave you by yourself like this. You need a mom right now, and I'm the closest thing you've got."

He almost broke. A single thread of stubborn willpower was all that kept him from bursting. He didn't know how he was holding himself together.

"I don't know what happened just now, before Opal and I got here," Su cooed at him, "but I'm not going to think any less of you for it." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, a gentler touch than even Asami's had been. He didn't know it was possible to tense any more, but he did. His whole arm seared with lingering pain. He trembled harder. "You're shaking like a leaf. You've got to relax a little, sweetheart."

He didn't. He wanted to pull away from her, but there wasn't enough energy left. He wanted to yell. They were still listening, Korra and Lin and Opal and Asami. They were still listening by the door, and he wanted to scream at them to go away. But all he could do was hold himself in his tiny ball, shiver, and try his best to breathe.

"Do you know what you're doing to yourself right now?" she asked, and it was clear that he wasn't expected to answer. He was thankful for that. "You're making yourself panic. I can tell. See, you keep holding your breath, and then you gasp, and then you hold it again. Pretty soon here you're going to hyperventilate, and then you're going to faint again. I love you dearly, Bolin, but I can't carry you if you faint."

He felt them listening.

"Why won't you let go?" She touched her hand to the back of his head now, stroked his hair. "You think I haven't seen a boy cry before? I raised four of them. And none of the boys can hold a candle to Bataar. He falls apart over everything."

He managed to shake his head. Then he gasped again. She had been right. He could feel his breaths coming faster, shallower, quivering. It was a feeling unlike any he'd ever had, as though he'd compressed every overwhelming emotion into one enormous black hole of pure, uncontrollable panic. He couldn't think straight. All that was in his head was the fear of what he'd said, of the inevitable consequences once he straightened out. Everyone had heard the words. Everyone had heard him confess.

"What can I do to help you?"

It took every ounce of his composure to say, "Make them go away," and again his voice hadn't sounded like his own. He sounded sick.

"What?"

"They're listening!"

"Who?"

It hurt his shoulder, but he jabbed his finger toward the door. He imagined it would've taken more effort and more pain to say the words. He didn't want to talk. Talking only made things worse.

Su rose, and when she walked away Bolin curled back into his ball. He tried to breathe. He tried to stop the shaking. He tried to relax.

It was futile.

"I need you all to go away," Su said, and she sounded very far away. "No standing by the door and no eavesdropping. I mean it. You're not helping. Go on. Get yourselves figured out."

The door clicked shut again, and Bolin could feel Korra and Asami and Lin and Opal retreating. The farther they went the fainter they felt, until their motions were only hints of vibration. And then Su was next to him again, her hand on his back. He could feel her looking at him, nervous. He could feel it through her touch.

"How did you know they were there?"

He shook his head again. He didn't _know_ how he knew. That was the problem. He couldn't stop gasping long enough to say the words. He wasn't sure he could have explained it if he tried.

"Bolin?" She sounded very slightly scared now. "If you don't talk to me I can't help you."

"I can _feel_ them! I can _still_ feel them!"

It took a long pause, but then Su said, "Oh, dear." Another pause and she shifted. She sat on her knees in front of him, and as she moved she kept her hand on his back, on his arm, on his leg. "I'm going to move you now, Bolin. Just stay calm." She grasped him gently by each ankle, lifted his feet, and planted them firmly on her thighs. She was warm.

The chaos stopped, and for a moment all that was left was the panic and hate and terror rolling in waves through his body.

"Is that better?" Su asked. "Can you feel them anymore?"

He didn't say anything. He just shook his head weakly and tightened his ball. He heard her utter another mystified, "Oh, dear" before scooting closer to him. She adjusted his feet on her legs, and then placed her hands gently on the outsides of his thighs. He didn't mind the touch. She was just slightly nervous, but she was _even_. She was constant. She was comfortable.

"Just focus on me," she said, and she rubbed his legs like she might rub a child's back. "All you can do now is ride it out. Just focus on me, and try to breathe."

He tried. And he trembled. And he thought about how pitiful he must look sitting there curled up on the floor with someone else's mother holding him like a baby while he tried to disappear.

It was too much.

To her great credit, Su didn't say a single word when the first sob slipped out. She didn't shush him or try to comfort him. The break was just as violent as he'd imagined it would be, but it was unbelievably quiet. Even as it happened he was amazed by just how silent he kept himself. The loudest noise he made was a sniffle when he couldn't catch his breath, a pathetic whimper when he tried to push it all back in and failed. That was all. And she was quiet, too. Through all the convulsive heaves and stifled sobs she said nothing. She just sat there, gently rubbing his legs. She didn't try to move him, didn't try to uncoil him from his tiny little ball, didn't try to make him raise his head. She just sat. She was just _present_.

Then it was done, and all that was left was emptiness, an exhaustion so complete it nearly overshadowed the embarrassment. He kept his head down and forced himself to draw slow, shuddering breaths. He couldn't move if he tried.

Suyin sighed. Bolin wanted to apologize, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. He was too ashamed. He was too tired. It all had caught back up to him.

"You're an incredible young man," she said at last, and she put her hand on the back of his head again.

He said nothing. All he could do was breathe and hate himself for doing it.

"I can't think of a better person for Opal to be with. I hope you know that." She waited for a while, and then sighed again. "When Lin called me and told me what happened I was terrified. And it wasn't Lin that scared me. She was holding herself together, but that's Lin, you know. Nothing ever seems to get to her. What scared me was that I heard Asami crying behind her. I could hear it over the phone. And Korra was yelling at you and you weren't yelling back. That's how I knew something was really horribly wrong."

Bolin wanted to curl up again. Why was she rubbing his nose in this? Asami had already done it.

"What I mean is that people care about you more than you give them credit for. We all just want you to be happy and healthy. You can't give me any grandchildren if you're not happy and healthy."

Somehow, the statement made him raise his head and glare at her.

"You look absolutely horrible," Su said with the slightest smile, and she put her hand on his face, then on his shoulder. Then she looked at him in earnest, and he watched her eyes move up and down his body. He felt self-conscious again. He wanted his jacket back. He wanted to hide. Suyin sighed again, and then met his eyes. She looked sad. "There's hardly any of you left, is there?"

Bolin felt his forehead wrinkle, confused.

"I want you to come back to Zaofu," she said, and she didn't look upset. She didn't feel upset. "I think it would do you a lot of good to get away from here. There's too much going on for you to focus on healing."

He just stared.

"You poor thing," she said sadly. "You understand what I'm saying to you, don't you?"

He nodded.

"How many pounds are you down now? Twenty? Thirty?"

Bolin shook his head, folded his arms on his knees, and laid his forehead atop them. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to say anything. He didn't even want to look at her. He didn't want her to look at him. He just wanted to disappear.

"You're not going to talk to me, are you?"

She had sounded so sad. She sounded so concerned. But he didn't want to talk to her. He didn't want to talk to anyone.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk. You don't have to. We can just sit until you feel better."

Bolin wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her statement. Feel better? There was no feeling better.

"You've had a rough time lately," Su went on, apparently oblivious to his mounting cynicism. "I know that. Everyone does. But things will get better. I promise they'll get better. They always do. You've just got to hang on long enough to give it a chance."

So she thought it, too. Asami had been right.

"I want you to come back to Zaofu with me," she repeated again. "I want you to come home with me so that you can heal up and get back to normal."

He did laugh that time, the same cold, joyless, and hateful laugh he'd leveled at Asami, except this time it was thick from the crying. He felt her heart skip a beat.

"Oh, dear."

He wished she'd quit saying that.

"Look," she said after a time in quiet, "I want to ask you a question, and all you've got to do is nod your head at me. Can you do that?"

He nodded, but didn't look up.

"Good." She put her hand back on his head and rubbed at it with her thumb. "You were supposed to be on bed rest for two weeks, weren't you?"

He nodded again.

"You didn't make it two weeks, did you?"

He shook his head.

"How many days did you follow orders? Two? Three?"

He nodded.

She laughed. It was a genuine laugh such that he could feel the joy through her legs and through his feet and into the pit of his stomach, and for the tiniest moment he thought she was laughing _at_ him. But then she said, "I knew the minute they told me you were supposed to stay in bed that you wouldn't. I told them, too, but they didn't listen."

He wanted to tell her that it wasn't funny.

"But I think I'm more impressed that you were able to get up after such a short time. Who helped you?"

He shook his head again. He'd done it all on his own beginning on the fourth day. He hadn't even been able to think straight yet. He'd just known that he wanted to stand up, and he'd tried. He proceeded to fall down and sit in the floor for two hours before he could muster the strength to get back on the bed, but it all been on his own. And he'd tried several times each day every day after that to get up until he could, and then he just _stood_, and that took more effort than he ever believed possible. Nobody knew about that, though, and he wasn't keen on letting anyone find out.

"So, what's this all about then?" Her hands weren't on him anymore.

Bolin looked up at her, curious, and noted that she had retrieved his shoulder brace from the ground where Lin had discarded it. She was turning it over in her hands the same way he had done when he first took it out of its box. Then she finally righted it and held it up to him.

"Ah. You had this on, didn't you? Before Opal tackled you."

He nodded.

"I'm guessing it's supposed to support your shoulder?"

"_Supposed_ to," he said, deadpan.

Su smiled an enormous smile. "There he is."

He put his head back down.

"And there he goes."

"Shut up, Su."

She laughed at him. "Feisty now, are we?" Her voice went fairly serious. "Look, sweetie, I want to help you. But you've got to _let_ me help you first, and the best way to do that is going to be for you to come home with me so I can keep an eye on you."

"I don't need help."

"Oh, clearly."

He glared at her.

"You can't scare me, dear. The worst thing you can do is drop me in a pool of lava and you're way too much of a softie to even consider it."

"You keep mocking me and I might consider it."

"Tough guy, huh?"

He narrowed his eyes, and the look she leveled on him was both condescending and disbelieving. It was a look only a mother could give, a look that dared him to keep pushing. He didn't have the energy to match her, so he just put his head back down.

"You look tired."

"You have _no_ idea."

"There's a couch in the office," Su said thoughtfully. "You want to go-"

"No," he snapped.

Su was quiet for a moment, as though she had been stunned by the sudden aggression. She rubbed at his legs again. "All right, then. What are we going to do?"

He shook his head. It seemed that was all he could do lately.

"Can I leave you alone for a few minutes?"

"If you're not too scared I'm going to throw myself out a window."

"Oh, sarcasm. Very good." Su patted him on the calf and smiled. "I'm going to move your feet now, okay?"

Bolin nodded. He wasn't sure what it mattered. But the moment she lifted his feet off of her thighs and put them on the ground he could feel the vibrations again, could feel them all again. He could feel Su in front of him. It was jarring and confusing, and he felt his forehead wrinkle as the sensations overwhelmed him.

"You're going to have to fill me in about whatever is going on with that," Su said, and then she stood. "Give me five minutes before you jump, can you do that?"

"I guess."

"Good boy."

She walked away, and Bolin sighed. He had hoped during the breakdown that he might feel better after it was done, but he didn't feel better at all. If it was possible, he felt worse. He felt weaker than he had when he first woke up; his head hurt worse, the tremors hadn't stopped, his whole body seemed like it was going to fall apart. And somehow, he felt nauseous. He had no idea how. He hadn't eaten anything in what felt like days. But there was a distinctly uncomfortable sensation in his stomach that had gone beyond _hunger pangs_ and sat comfortably in the realm of _my stomach is eating itself_. It almost felt numb.

He wondered what time it was. He was exhausted. He was freezing. He was sweating.

"Oh, good. You're still here. No windows nearby?"

He hadn't noticed Su returning. She'd spoken in relatively upbeat tones, and then sat in front of him again. Beneath one arm she'd tucked a throw pillow and a small blanket, and in the other hand she held a bowl of something hot. He could see the steam coming off it. She sat down before him, put the bowl on the ground beside her, and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. It was an altogether motherly thing for her to do, and it made Bolin's stomach jerk with guilt.

"If you're not going to go lay down, you'll have to sleep on the floor out here," she said as she situated herself. She tossed the pillow beside him and grabbed the bowl again. "Makes no difference to me where you sleep, really."

"Better than a trash heap."

"Good. You keep on with the sarcasm," she said. "At least when you're being sarcastic I know you're alive in there." She took an enormous bite of what looked like fancy, expensive noodles, then put the bowl down and regarded him curiously. "I hope you don't mind. I'm famished. I haven't eaten since noon." She grabbed his ankles and set his feet on her thighs, and then she grabbed her bowl and kept on. She felt content now; she felt _level._

Bolin rested his chin on his arms. The smell of her food made the nausea worse.

"You know, dear, some day I hope to have a man look at me the way you're looking at my food," she said after another few bites, and Bolin felt his face growing hot again. She'd said the words so plainly. He hadn't realized that he'd been staring like that. "Do you look at Opal that way?"

The color drained from his face so fast it made him dizzy, and he practically slammed his forehead back into his arms.

Su laughed at him.

"It's not funny," he grumbled.

"I think it's hilarious," Su replied. "Come on, now, here."

When he looked up again, she was brandishing the bowl at him. He didn't take it.

"See now, pretty quick my old lady arms are going to get tired and then you're going to have noodles all over you."

He took the bowl and looked tentatively into it, and for a moment he wasn't sure exactly what he should do.

"You do remember how to eat, don't you?"

He glared at her again, but she just smiled that sadistic, motherly smile.

"Don't look."

"You're kidding," Su said, deadpan. Her smile had gone. "You are kidding, right?"

"I'm not kidding. Don't look."

With a great roll of her eyes, Su propped her elbows on his shins and dropped her face into her hands. "Ridiculous. A grown man like you too embarrassed to eat in front of a hag like me. Sure, you can eat off the same utensils as me, but perish the thought of me _watching_ you. I'm going to know if you dump it out, just so you're aware. I'm sitting right here. You can't sneak it by me."

He was too busy inhaling the food to listen to her mocking him. He didn't even taste it.

"Slow down. You don't want to make yourself sick. I'm being serious."

It was gone in less than two minutes, and for a while Bolin just sat there staring at the empty bowl and feeling more nauseous than he ever should have. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper meal, not that a bowl of plain noodles really qualified as _proper_. It was a curious thing; how he felt like he wanted to eat another bowl at the same time he wanted to puke it all back up.

He noticed Su watching him, and the familiar heat of embarrassment crept up on him again.

"If you throw up on me I'm going to be upset."

He couldn't help but look away shamefully as he handed the empty bowl back to her. Once she had taken it, he put his head back down, and she once again laid her hands on him. She rubbed the back of his head, patted him on the calf, and seemed content to sit in the quiet again for a long, long time. He'd begun to feel overwhelmingly tired by the next time she spoke. He was still cold. He was still sweating.

"You still feel like jumping out a window?"

"Maybe a little," he said. He sounded sleepy. He sounded sick. His words had slurred together.

"You know, if you come to Zaofu you can jump off the domes."

It was the closest thing to a genuine laugh he'd let go in a long time, a sharp exhalation through the nose, but it seemed to be enough for Su. He didn't have the energy to muster much more than that, anyway. She went quiet again, and between his no-longer-empty stomach, her gentle maternal petting, and the comfortable weight of the blanket she'd found, he couldn't help but start to doze.

"You want to lay down, sweetheart?"

He couldn't even shake his head.

He was just too tired.

The silence lasted for a while after Su came to scold them for standing at the door, and while Lin had eventually gone about her own business at Asami's desk, Korra, Asami, and Opal had sat in awkward quiet on the sofa and the floor. The food Suyin and Opal had brought sat untouched. Korra, for her part, was too angry to eat, but Asami looked sad and Opal looked sick. She'd been clutching Pabu to her face for the last twenty minutes, sniffling into his tail while he whimpered at her.

"Thought the brace was supposed to keep it in," Korra grumbled after a while, at a loss for anything else to say to break the tense silence.

"Well," Asami replied, quiet but thoughtful, "it's supposed to keep him from throwing it out while he's earthbending. I didn't really take trying to catch himself into account, being that earthbenders don't generally just _fall down_."

Opal sighed heavily, and Pabu whimpered at her.

"It's not your fault, Opal," Asami said, and she patted Opal's back. "If the worst thing you've done to him is knock him over, you're doing better than the rest of us."

"It looked so gross," Opal said. There was a quiver in her voice.

"Feels gross, too, when you put it back in for him," said Lin from across the room.

Korra shuddered. She knew that firsthand.

"So," Opal said tentatively, and she lowered Pabu to her lap, "what exactly happened? Before mom and I got here?"

Korra looked at Asami, and Asami looked at Korra, and neither one said a word. Korra wasn't really sure where to begin on the matter. She wasn't really sure what had made Bolin storm out into the hallway and start screaming at her, and she had only yelled back because she was so frustrated. It had only been a few minutes prior that Asami had come to explain to her and Lin about the conversation she'd had with him. She had barely gotten started when she had poked her head back into the hallway, and then it had all gone crazy.

"I told him we were worried about him," Asami said at last, "and he didn't like it."

"Clearly."

Lin's quips were grating on Korra's nerves.

"I was trying to be diplomatic about it," Asami continued, and she had begun to fidget, "but he called me out on everything. It was really weird. I tried to dodge a question and he just… _Knew_."

"Knew what?" Opal asked. She sounded a bit less ill now the conversation had turned more casual.

Asami shrugged. "He knew that I was dodging the questions."

The silence fell again. And the silence lingered for a while. Korra listened as closely as she could toward the door, hoping to hear any kind of noise at all, but if Su and Bolin were speaking to each other there was no indication. At least he'd stopped yelling.

"Girls, come eat," Lin said. It was more an order than a request, and it wasn't one that they were willing to disobey.

It was an awkward dinner, all things considered, without much in the way of conversation. But the food was good, and for a while Korra felt able to relax as much as she could, knowing what was happening in the hallway.

"So, what's going on with you two anyway?" Asami asked suddenly, and she looked at Korra so directly that Korra's stomach lurched. "With you and Bolin?"

Korra was caught somewhere between choking on her noodles and spitting them back out. The question had come out of nowhere. "Nothing!" Korra cried. "What are you even talking about?"

"Well, you're just weird lately," Asami continued. "I mean, I get why he's weird. But it's like…You're avoiding each other one minute, then you're okay with each other the next minute, and then you're in a screaming match with each other. It's just weird. You normally get along really well. Just seems like there's a lot of tension lately."

"He started it," Korra argued lamely. She didn't really want to address the question head-on. What would she say, anyway? _I was avoiding him because he kissed me while he was delirious and I was too afraid at the time to tell if I liked it or not so I stayed away from him but then he didn't seem to remember and I'm still not sure how I feel about the whole thing because every time he touches me I get all tingly_. Yeah. That would go over well, especially with Opal right there.

And then Su came in, and they all went quiet as she collected items from the office.

"How is it?" Lin asked.

Su sighed heavily as she slopped some of the noodles from the takeout container to a bowl. "Not great. You girls managed to give the poor guy the most serious panic attack I've ever seen." She shot an accusing look to Korra, and Korra looked away. She didn't want Su to be mad at her, too.

"He talking?"

"Oh, he's talking, all right," Su said, and Korra couldn't tell if she sounded annoyed or surprised. "I don't know what you girls said to him before we got here, but it didn't do him any good. Just before I came in here he asked me if I was worried he'd jump out a window."

Korra watched the varied reactions. Asami's face screwed up like she had eaten some bad food, Opal looked ready to cry again, and Pabu had begun eating out of her bowl. Lin, across the way, sat impassively at Asami's desk, her eyebrow raised.

"And you told him…?" Lin prompted.

"I told him to give me five minutes before he jumps," Su replied. She seemed a little too casual. Then, with articles in hand, she made her way back toward the hallway. "Keep away from the door. I mean it. I'm going to try and get him to eat something and if he knows you're there listening he's just going to clam up again, and then I'll be angry, too."

Korra wondered how Bolin would know they were listening, but Su disappeared before she could ask. The silence took her place.

For a while, Opal kept mentioning that she wanted to go help, but she remained firmly planted on the couch, as though she was afraid of what she might see. After a time, she seemed to have contented herself with Pabu, and the sick look about her had mostly gone. She just looked worried.

Asami had begun to doze, herself, and Korra remained on the floor. She stared at her boots. All the meaningful conversation had gone, and aside from a few casual pleasantries and off-hand comments, the time passed in strained quiet.

Korra couldn't have said what time it was when Su came back in, but both Opal and Asami had long since fallen asleep. She imagined it was near midnight, and when she counted the hours the prediction seemed sound. She and Bolin had left Air Temple Island around noon, had gotten to the prison around two. He'd fainted just less than an hour after that, and the time since then had passed in a blur.

Su tossed the now empty bowl onto Asami's desk and slumped weakly into one of the armchairs, exhausted. Korra watched her the whole way, watched the expression on her face. She looked drawn, as though the whole ordeal had spread her too thin.

"Well?" Lin said once Su had settled in.

"He's asleep."

"And you left him out there alone?"

"Well, he's been out for about an hour now, long enough for my legs to fall asleep, anyway, and hasn't moved a muscle. I bet you could unload a swarm of screaming wolf-bats on him and he wouldn't so much as twitch. I tried to get him to lie down but he wouldn't budge. I don't even know that he heard me. He'll be sore when he wakes up if he doesn't stretch out. He's still all curled up, and I have no idea how he fell asleep like that."

Korra rose and crossed the room. Lin watched her the whole way, but Su seemed not to notice her until she'd flopped into an armchair of her own. "Anything happen?"

Su shrugged. "He was talking, and that's a fair stretch better than I thought he'd be doing. He ate. He laughed at me."

"Oh?" Lin said skeptically.

"Okay, it wasn't so much a laugh as it was a snort. Well, he breathed harder, anyway, and I'll take it."

"How?" Korra asked.

Su grinned mischievously. "Made a few off-color jokes at him. Told him he could jump off the domes at Zaofu if he comes home with me and decides living isn't worth the effort."

Lin looked suddenly ready to snap, and her reaction made Korra feel just slightly better. Lin had most definitely developed a soft spot.

"Mom?"

Korra looked over the back of her armchair to see Opal getting to her feet, Pabu curled around the back of her neck, and for the first time it struck Korra as odd how comfortable Pabu was with her. In Bolin's absence, the fire ferret hadn't left her side once. There was a look on her face of utmost concern, and she glanced toward the door twice before Su ever had the chance to answer.

"He's fine, Opal," Su said, exasperated. "And don't you dare think about going out there and risk waking him up."

She pouted, but came to sit on the floor all the same. She leaned against Su's legs and dropped her chin on her hand.

"You didn't have to get up," Su said to her. "Nothing's going to happen for a while. It was probably better for you to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep."

"How'd you get him to eat?" Korra asked after a bit. "He's been refusing everything that I know of for as long as I can remember."

Now Su laughed. "I ate it first," she said, "and he was just staring at me, so I asked him if he looked at Opal the same way he was looking at my food. I think he was so embarrassed that he took it just to get me to stop making fun of him."

Opal turned about immediately, her eyes wide and her face the lightest shade of pink. "What?"

Su patted her on the shoulder placidly. "You don't have to be embarrassed," she said. "Don't forget, I was your age once, and I was a troublemaker besides. I know what twenty-year-olds do. Besides, I guarantee I did far worse things than the two of you have done."

"I wouldn't count on that," Lin replied dryly, and at once, Opal and Su both looked at her, and both wore the same shocked expression. Opal had gone scarlet. But Lin didn't say another word. Then they looked to Korra like they expected her to fill in the blanks. Korra certainly remembered Lin saying something about Bolin divulging all the details of his and Opal's personal affairs to her during his delirium, but she had never known exactly what that had included. She shrugged.

For a while, they all sat in the quiet.

"Well," Su sighed sleepily after a while, and she made to rise from her chair, "we ought to get ourselves squared away and get some rest here. We've all got a busy few days ahead of us and—"

The door opened with force, and Pabu skittered startled from Opal's shoulder. Being that she was half up already, Su was the first to look mortified toward the noise.

"Oh, dear," she said.

Then Opal was on her feet, and then Korra was on her feet, and even across the room Asami had roused at the sudden noise and was staring dumbfounded from the sofa. Given Su's explanation, no one expected Bolin to be up and moving about so urgently so soon. More, no one expected him to head directly for the waste bin beside the door.

He retched.

Korra had to look away with a grimace; else she would be sick herself. The sound alone turned her stomach. But it was done as quickly as it had begun and a dread silence hung in the interim. When Korra looked back toward him, he was leaning against the wall staring confusedly into the bin. She could see his back heaving with shallow breaths.

He looked like death.

"Well," he said weakly, in a voice so weak that Korra could hear the wavering, "that's not good."

And he kept staring. Korra could see him shaking. He stumbled clumsily but caught himself before he fell. Suddenly, Korra felt an overwhelming sense of disaster. It was the same feeling she'd had at the combustion bender's cell, and it rooted her feet to the spot and caused her breath to catch in her throat.

"That… That's really not good…" Bolin repeated. He looked like death. He sounded like death. He sounded like he was going to throw up again. His words had slurred. He was white as a sheet. And then, after a few more moments spent staring into the bin, he looked directly at Suyin. He seemed not to see anyone else. He seemed not to see at all. With an incredible effort he managed to stammer, "Something's wrong…"

There was something terrifying in his voice that Korra could never have articulated, a combination of weakness and horror and helplessness and _realization_ that let her know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't the only one feeling the sense of impending doom. In the seconds immediately following his statement, Bolin looked at the ground vacantly, then looked at his shaking hands, and then seemed to sway.

He swallowed very hard, and touched his hand to his chest.

"…I'm going to fall down…"

The room sprang back to life. Su practically vaulted the chair to rush toward him, Opal let out a cry of fright and sprinted after her, and even Asami had gotten to her feet and seemed ready to jump into action. Korra hadn't even thought to move. It was as though her brain had frozen. Her whole body had gone numb.

Even as she watched, Korra couldn't be sure if Bolin had collapsed against Su or if she had grabbed him before his legs gave out, but they both sank heavily to the ground and remained very still. They were _too_ still. They were too quiet. Suyin was just staring at him. And Opal was staring at Su, slumped with her hands cupped over her face.

Everyone else seemed as outsiders intruding on a horrible, intimate moment.

"Opal, get his feet up," Su ordered in a voice so calm it gave Korra goosebumps, and Opal complied at once. She threw herself to the ground and propped Bolin's feet on her knees, and at the same time Su laid him back. She propped his head on her crossed legs. And then Su began gently calling his name, shaking him, calling his name, shaking him.

He didn't move.


	20. Complicated Orders

Mako spent days in a haze of disbelief and mourning made tolerable only by the company of others and the inexplicable desire to appear in control. In the daylight hours he worked with his quad to train and work and plan for their inevitable deployment, and most nights he spent with Toru. He didn't know when, but at some point she had become something of a fixture in his day. She always seemed to be nearby when he needed her, and she never seemed to tire of his constant prattling.

She had become comfortable.

The relationship was not necessarily a secret, and they didn't try to hide their involvement with one another. There could be no secrets in the dormitory so there was no point in trying. Most nights they met after dinner, walked outside, talked, and retired back to the apartment well after hours to lay on the bed and talk some more. At first they were subject to strange looks and derisive glares, but over time they faded. At first, Bingwei mocked them when he was present, but then he slowly stopped, and eventually he began to afford them some private space.

They had become comfortable.

Over the course of several very late nights Mako had laid himself bare for her, explaining the loss of his parents, his time on the street, his relationship with Bolin. He divulged memories to her that he'd not discussed in many years, memories that he imagined even Bolin had forgotten over time. It had been, in a certain way, cathartic for him. It had provided release where he could find nothing else. It helped him cope. And Toru listened without judgment, even when he explained his failed relationship with Avatar Korra.

When Mako's story had been told, Toru told her own in the same detail. Mako learned about her past, her family, her struggles with bending, her engagement to the man who would eventually become the leader of what Mako had once believed to be the greatest terrorist organization in the world. Through it all she insisted that she _had been_ his fiancée, as though it was a thing of the past, but she never once explained what had happened to sever the bond. She never explained why she still traveled with him, and Mako never asked her to. It wasn't his place.

His relationship with Toru was not the only one that had grown stronger. Whether he wanted to or not, he'd begun to fill the void that Bolin's death had opened in him. Yaozhu had settled into the place that Bolin once filled, and the occupation had happened quite suddenly. For days Mako had remained distant. For days he had said only the words that were required of his station, only the words that were required to make it through the day and get back to his apartment. But then Yaozhu had asked him what had been troubling him lately, and the way he'd asked the question reminded Mako so much of Bolin that he broke again.

Every perception Mako once held about combustion benders in general had been disproved by Yaozhu alone. He was gentle and soft spoken, eager to please others, upbeat and optimistic. He was like a small, firebending Bolin, and that alone was endearing. The degree to which the two were similar was striking, particularly when Yaozhu screwed up and spouted stammering apologies, or when he tried to crack a joke at the most inappropriate times. Mako scolded him, yes, but inwardly he appreciated the attempts at levity.

More, Mako had been given the opportunity to meet with more combustion benders outside of his own group, and every one he met treated him genially. They were an agreeable lot, if a little remote, and offered advice not only to Yaozhu in his training, but to the rest of Mako's quad in matters of all kinds. Certainly they looked a bit weird, and whenever he saw the various tattoos on their foreheads Mako still felt the slightest twang of nervousness, but there was no hint of the bloodthirstiness he'd seen in P'li. There was no indication that any of them were actually insane, as he had once believed all combustion benders to be. They were people, the same as him, and they were just trying to get by.

It was in the second week of his captaincy that Yaozhu divulged to Mako that he had once had an older brother who had been deployed to Republic City more than a month prior. Yaozhu hadn't heard from him since, and had started to believe that he might've died in service to the society. In that moment, Mako realized that he wasn't the only one with voids to fill, and it completely solidified his position as the brotherly authority figure amongst his quad.

Even Jing and Fa had opened to him a bit. Certainly they remained more guarded than Yaozhu had done, but they had been more skeptical to begin with. After a time they began to let loose, they began to speak more freely and engage more completely in their training, and they began to try harder to fulfill their assignments. Fa seemed to drop his perpetually suspicious attitude toward all things Mako did, and Jing began physical training in earnest. He'd dropped twelve pounds already and seemed to have been in a better mood than anyone had ever seen before.

Mako swelled with pride when a notice came to him praising him for leading one of the most efficient groups in the system, and he had taken the risk of inviting the others for an absolutely luxurious dinner in the dormitory kitchens. No one said anything about the fact that Mako had brought inferiors into the officers' mess hall, and after their meal, they retired to Mako's apartment for further celebrations. Toru had joined them late in the evening, and in a moment that Mako could never hope to explain, he'd kissed her for the first time.

Mako had become so lost in the feeling of communion that he had all but forgotten the idea of _home_. This was his home now, these people were his family, and the more he accepted those truths the more whole he felt. He stopped counting the days since he'd been taken. He allowed himself to stop feeling conflicted and allowed himself to enjoy the companionship of others. He started smiling again. He could laugh and actually mean it. He felt in control. He had a purpose.

Then the day came when his mettle was tested.

"Courier delivered a letter for you this morning."

Mako had still been reclined in his bed, not yet completely awake, when Bingwei had produced the note and tossed it at him. He stared at it for a few seconds before picking it up to examine it more closely. It looked official. It looked _extremely_ official, with flowing script and a metallic red seal holding it closed.

"Who's it from?" he asked.

"How should I know? I'm not your errand boy."

"No, but you're the one who delivered it to me."

"Shut up and read it."

Mako opened the letter. He stared at the words on the page for a few minutes before he was actually able to comprehend them.

"Well?" Bingwei prompted.

"Not your business," Mako quipped, and he folded the letter again, "being that you're not my errand boy."

"Watch the attitude. I'm a superior."

"Says the guy who delivered me a letter."

Mako tossed the letter to Bingwei and rose from the bed to prepare for the day.

"Addressed to quad leader four zero five... You got a _number?_" Bingwei asked.

"Apparently." Mako didn't know what exactly the number meant, but he'd heard that being assigned one was an extremely good thing.

"Quad leader four zero five has been summoned to a formal meeting with His Excellency at eighteen hundred hours on this twelfth day of..." Bingwei trailed off, then shot Mako an extraordinarily surprised look. "And you've been _summoned_? This soon?"

Mako shrugged and grabbed his clothes from the dresser. "Apparently. Now move, I want a shower."

"Late night with your lady?"

"Shut up."

As Mako walked past, Bingwei smacked him hard on the shoulder, laughed, and said, "Somebody's grouchy."

But Mako wasn't. In fact, he couldn't help but feel a bit prideful. Bingwei hadn't even been given a number. More, he was going to a formal meeting with the head of the society, which by anyone's reckoning was an exceptional honor.

It wasn't until halfway through his shower that the truth of that matter finally hit him, and all the confusion and conflict he'd felt before came rushing back. But now things were complicated.

He'd known for some time that he was going to be sent to Republic City. Toru had told him that as plain as day. But he had never known exactly _when_ he was going to go, nor how he was going to get there, nor who was going to go with him. He had the most vague idea of what he was _supposed_ to do once he arrived, but didn't know what he actually _would_ do. His orders, if Toru was to be believed (and she was) would be to contact the leaders of the various Triad groups and convince them to join with the society. But his mission-the mission he had once thought about and then had recessed to the back of his mind-was to find out as much information as he could about the society and report it back to Beifong.

He wondered if he could do both.

It wasn't so much that he felt any particular allegiance to the society in general. When he thought on the matter, he felt angry toward them, a general hostility which could only be explained by the fact that they had tried to kill him in Ba Sing Se, tried to brainwash and condition him in the camp, took all non-firebenders hostage and used them for nefarious ends, and, perhaps worst of all, had apparently killed Bolin. But the people who had done those terrible things weren't the people with whom Mako spent most of his time. They were shadow people, people he never saw and never spoke to, and people who never saw him or spoke to him.

Except now they'd be speaking to him directly.

It was with remarkable nervousness that Mako went through the motions of his day with his quad. He informed them quite early on that he would be meeting with His Excellency that evening for a private meeting in which he suspected they would all be given formal orders and deployed. The others, particularly Yaozhu, responded gleefully.

He was so nervous about the matter that he took a second shower. And then the time had come for him to go.

The notice had said that an envoy would be waiting for him in the foyer at twenty minutes before six, who would escort him to the hitherto unmentioned meeting place, and he could see said envoy before he ever went down the stairs. After all, why else would someone be standing around by himself in the entryway to the dormitory in a uniform that didn't match the rest?

There were no greetings. The envoy simply said, "Follow me," and Mako followed.

Interestingly enough, they did not leave the building as Mako had suspected they might. Instead, the envoy led him down the same hallway he'd tried to investigate on his own once before. This time, however, he wasn't subjected to the glares.

This corridor was the same as the upstairs corridors, a direct copy of his own, except that the door at the end-the door through which he was taken-did not lead to a common bathroom. It didn't lead to a bathroom at all.

It led to a basement. Which led to a door. Which led to a roughly hewn tunnel. Which led to a larger network of tunnels that appeared to weave and dive and interconnect as an enormous underground web. As he walked, Mako tried to mark the directions, but he couldn't seem to gain his bearings. They snaked about seemingly without direction for a solid fifteen minutes before an ornate door presented itself, beyond which another staircase rose toward the surface.

Mako reasoned that the purpose of these tunnels was to keep locations a secret. He reasoned that this was what the captive earthbenders had been set to do. He reasoned that each building in the compound must have been connected to the network. No one could attack the leader if they didn't know exactly where he was, and he imagined that the leader would need all the protection he could get, given that he'd lost his bending and seemed to have no other means to protect himself. Any combustion bender who wanted could blow him up from half a mile away with little more than a thought.

At the top of the staircase was another basement, though this one seemed in far better repair than the one in his building. There were carpets and tapestries and the general Fire Nation propaganda that he'd seen everywhere else, except instead of looking old and worn out, the decorations seemed new and well cared for.

The basement was a storage space, Mako recognized, because the walls were lined with barrels and boxes and bags, which he imagined contained the food and other supplies that ran the island as a whole. He wondered from where the items were imported.

As soon as they began the climb from the basement, Mako could smell food, and all at once he realized how hungry he'd been. He'd not considered that this might be a dinner, and a nervousness came into him that he'd not expected. There was something intimate about a meeting over dinner. There was something significantly more personal about it. Plus, to date, his table manners had suffered as a result of taking most of his meals alone. He hadn't eaten with anyone except for his quadmates in a long time, and none of them seemed particularly well mannered themselves.

For the first time in a long time, he forced himself to think of his life before the society, when he ate semi-formal dinners on Air Temple Island with Avatar Korra, when he ate more-than-semi-formal dinners with Wu while acting as his one-man security force. It wasn't a difficult task, if he kept to the rules: Eat only after the others had started, and eat at their pace. Speak only when spoken to directly. Laugh when others laugh. Be silent when they are silent. Certainly if he followed the lead of whoever else sat at the table with him, he would be fine.

He'd been so caught up in his self-coaching that he hadn't realized that he'd entered the dining hall. The envoy had stopped at the door, motioned Mako to continue on, and then had disappeared.

In the center of the enormous room sat a large round table upon which were heaped foods that Mako had grown to find familiar: dumplings and tiny komodo chickens and brown and white rices and sausages and breads, and even the same smoked sea slug he'd regretted eating on his first day as a captain. It was a veritable feast.

Around the table sat five men.

It was not the first time that Mako had seen Guan clearly, but it the first time that Mako had seen him up close. He was altogether younger than Mako would have believed, and he was well manicured in every way. There wasn't a single wrinkle in his clothes; there wasn't a single hair out of place. He looked every bit the typical firebender, with pale skin, yellow-orange eyes, and dark hair. He cast an austere aura, an aspect of clear command, but Mako could tell that beneath all of that was something darker.

"Welcome," Guan said coolly, and he met Mako's eyes with a strong, superior gaze of his own. "Please sit."

Mako sat. Anger tugged faintly at his stomach. This was the man who'd had Bolin killed.

"Now we're all here, we can begin," Guan said again. "Gentlemen, help yourselves."

The order went against all the table manners Mako had ever learned. He watched, somewhat dumbfounded, as the men at Guan's sides heaped their plates with their preferences and Guan sat impassively, watching them.

Mako suddenly didn't feel very hungry. He suddenly felt a little bit scared and a little bit nauseous. But it seemed nobody noticed him, and within a few minutes the five had tucked in to their meals without much reservation.

"Well," Guan said after a time, "I suppose we're here to talk, so we should." Then he spoke directly to Mako. "You'll have to forgive the informality, but we five already know each other fairly well. These men are my council, my advisors, who work with me to promote the well being of the members of our society. They assist me in delegating tasks and determining where our services are most needed."

Mako nodded dumbly.

"Gentlemen," Guan continued, and now he looked at his companions, "this is quad leader four zero five. His name is Mako."

"He's young for a fourth division," said the man directly to Guan's left. "Don't you think?"

"Absolutely not," Guan replied generously. "He's well suited to the task."

Mako wasn't sure what to think. He felt as though he should know exactly what _fourth division_ meant. He didn't know that the numbers had any significance outside of identification. He felt very self-conscious.

"Fourth division are diplomats," Guan explained coolly. It seemed he'd noticed the look on Mako's face. "Your quad will be doing diplomatic work once you're deployed."

Again, Mako nodded.

"Four zero five indicates that you are the fifth quad in the fourth division. Of course, you're their captain, which is why you're sitting here now. This meeting is to discuss your deployment."

It seemed he'd never stop nodding his head, and Mako felt stupid.

"Your commander told me that you didn't speak much," Guan said, and this time he smiled broadly. It was an entirely attractive smile, a smile that oozed charisma and confidence. It was no wonder people blindly followed him, between his looks and his ability to speak. He was incredibly articulate. "You're allowed to speak freely here. We eat as equals. Now, please help yourself."

Mako took a bowl of rice and nibbled at it tentatively.

"Very good. Now, I hope you wouldn't mind answering a few of my questions," Guan said, and when Mako shook his head, he continued. "Can you tell us about your life in Republic City?"

"What about it?" Mako hadn't meant the words to come out quite so boldly. He didn't feel the way he'd sounded, and he didn't miss the meaningful look the others exchanged.

"Your affiliation with the Triads, if you don't mind."

Mako took an enormous bite from his rice to bide a little time. He had to be very careful how he played his cards. For all these men knew, Mako was completely loyal. They believed that he had been _fully assimilated_. And on one hand, he did feel loyalty in a way, to his quad and to Toru and maybe even a little to Bingwei, but there was no loyalty at this table. The longer he looked at the men here, the more outrage he felt. These people had orchestrated the murder of his little brother.

Still, he had to get back to Republic City. He had to talk to Beifong. He had to let her know what was going on.

"I was pretty young when I worked with them," he said thoughtfully. "I was ten when I started and I quit when I was about sixteen."

"And what was your job during those years?"

Mako shrugged, ate more rice. Now that he was putting food in his stomach, he was beginning to feel hungry again. "Pushed papers for a little while, ran numbers and did some accounting."

"At eleven?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

At once Mako had regretted his tone, and it seemed he made a face that let the others know. Guan smiled his perfect smile.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "You're likely the most civilized person we'll entertain at this table for the next few months. Please feel at ease here. I can't stress to you enough that this meeting is a formality only. It's a chance for us to get to know each other."

Mako wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he took it as permission. "I did the books because I knew the math."

"Seems like they could've found someone more mature to handle that duty for them. Bookkeeping is an important task for those kinds of organizations, after all."

"I didn't just keep the books."

"Ah, so you...?"

"Ran errands. Sent messages," Mako explained between bites. "My brother and I could go where other people couldn't." He hadn't even thought about mentioning Bolin. The memory made his stomach jump, and when it settled there remained a cold lump of grief.

"Can you explain a little more?" said the man to Guan's right. "About your duties and why you were given them? Specifically?"

"Well, the Triple Threats had to communicate with one another, whether it was a deal or a job or whatever," Mako said casually. "Being they were all over the city, they couldn't just telephone each other publicly, they had to send their messages through covert lines. And my brother and I were those covert lines. Like I said, we could go places where others couldn't."

"Exactly what does that mean?" Guan asked. "That you could go where others couldn't?"

"Well, I suppose it's a matter of who people pay attention to. Someone sees a grown man wandering the streets and they're going to notice him, especially if he looks like he's homeless. They're going to be a little bit wary and pay more attention to where he's going and what he's doing. He might attract the attention of police, if he's in the wrong place at the wrong time. But kids? Young kids? Nobody cares about them. Nobody pays attention to them because they think the kids are stupid or aren't paying attention. We could walk up to a person and eavesdrop on a fifteen-minute conversation and nobody would think anything of it. Nobody would look at us twice. We could go into those _wrong places_ and come out just fine because nobody saw us as a threat. So the Triad leaders would send us."

"Smart on their part to notice something like that."

"They didn't," Mako said smugly. "I did. Well, that's not true. Bolin did, but I told them about it because he was too scared to speak up. He was only eight."

"Bolin being your brother," said another of the men. They all seemed to be taking turns asking questions and commenting on his answers. But Mako had been staring down at his empty bowl, thinking about how much he hated these people. He was thinking about how much he missed his brother. He just nodded.

"What was your relationship with the leaders?"

Mako shrugged. "I guess it was good. They kept bugging us to do more work after we bailed. But we didn't have a reputation, if that's what you mean. We kept things quiet, and the bosses liked that."

"You continued living in Republic city after you stopped working for the Triads, according to our initial interview. Are the same men in charge as when you worked for them?"

Mako's face screwed up in disbelief. "Of course not," he said. Then he relaxed. He had to keep his head. "Leaders don't stay around for long in the Triads," he explained. "Lots of infighting and competition, and in a mob like that, it gets violent. Besides, a bunch of them were taken out with the whole Equalist fiasco, and that pretty much eliminated all the guys I knew of."

He didn't know if he'd done it on purpose, but Mako realized that he'd looked straight at Guan when he'd mentioned the Equalists. He hoped that he hadn't been too transparent. He imagined that he was the only one outside of Guan's inner circle to know about his lack of bending, and that was only thanks to his and Toru's relationship. And he had no idea if anyone in the inner circle knew about _that_.

There was a tense silence, during which the five men opposite Mako looked at each other. Mako tried not to make it obvious that he was watching them. He scooped another spoonful of rice into his bowl and ate.

"What do you think of things here?" Guan asked at last.

Mako raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything.

"Ah, skepticism. Let me elaborate. You came to us under fairly traumatic circumstances. I met you very early on and it seemed that you weren't coping well. It's very important to me that all of our citizens are happy and fulfilled. I want to know what you think about our society in order to help make your life here more enjoyable."

Mako still didn't speak.

"You're afraid to speak openly?"

"You were closer with skepticism," Mako said. "I'm not _afraid_ of you. You don't intimidate me."

Guan reclined in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. He'd taken on a new expression now, an expression that suggested to Mako that he was trying to analyze him, trying to read him, to understand. It was a look of most subtle surprise. Mako wondered if anyone had said such a thing to this man before.

"Why should you think I want to intimidate you?"

Now Mako assumed a similar position, the food all but forgotten.

"Why else would you drag me to a place, not tell me where it is, sit me down in front of a panel of old men, and ask me the types of questions you are? You can play at being friendly all you want, but a guy like you doesn't get to the top by being nice."

"Astute." Guan shared a look with the other men, and he gave the tiniest nod of his head. "I'd like to offer you an assignment, if you'd be willing to hear me out."

This was it, Mako thought. He seemed to have passed whatever test this was. No, he must have passed it well before he ever set foot in this room. No one would be allowed near this man if they weren't absolutely certain of his loyalty.

"Go ahead," Mako said. He'd meant the words to be at least slightly inviting, but his voice remained hard.

"I would like you to lead your quad in a mission to Republic City proper. We've been trying to get the Triads on board with us to act as informants, but it's been difficult to communicate with them. They don't take very kindly to people who aren't already affiliated with them. They don't welcome outsiders. Since you seem to have an in, I would like you to work diplomatically to get them to commit."

"How?"

"That much is up to you."

"And what do I get in return for doing the job?" Mako said boldly. "Seems like an awfully important task you're setting for me, I think I'm entitled to some repayment for completing it."

The appraising look came back again, and Guan stared at Mako for a while in silence. Mako wondered if he'd overstepped his bounds, but to this point it seemed he'd been rewarded every time he toed the line. It seemed that a certain degree of brashness was appreciated in this place, like it was a trait to be admired.

"What would you have?" Guan asked at last.

Mako hadn't necessarily thought on the matter. But the words came to him at once. "There's a girl I've seen around you. Water tribe by the looks of it. I'd like her."

Guan's eyes went wide, his brows raised. It was a look of clear, unmasked surprise that told Mako he'd not expected _that_ to be the price. But Toru had said so many times how she hated being around Guan. She hated being his trophy. She wanted to be free.

"She's the same one that healed me when I first came to you. She took good care of me then, and I think the one thing I'm missing here is a partner. Every other officer seems to have the girl of their choice, don't they? Even the ones without numbers all have partners waiting for them. I'd like mine. I think I've been more than patient about it."

Guan didn't say anything, but his eyes had gone very narrow. He folded his hands and rested his chin atop his knuckles. "There are a number of girls who are available already."

Mako shrugged. "Not my type."

"You're picky, then."

"No, I just know what I want." Mako crossed his arms and reclined himself, confident. "If you don't want to, it seems like you've left me the option to say no to your mission. After all, this was a friendly, get to know each other meeting, wasn't it? No pressure here."

"Let me clarify," said Guan dangerously. "You _will_ be going to Republic City. The choice isn't yours."

"Ah. I get it. But weren't you just telling me that you wanted me to be happy here? You wanted your officers to be comfortable? You want my life to be enjoyable? Good morale makes for good troops, doesn't it, Sir?"

"It does."

"Besides, I can't imagine what a powerful man like you would want with a water tribe girl. I figure you keep her around for healing. That's about all they're good for."

"Then what do you want her for?"

Mako smirked and cast his gaze downward. "I said that's _about_ all they're good for."

Guan bristled, and Mako knew he'd ruffled him.

"I'm more than happy to go talk to the Triad leaders for you. I'll walk in with open arms. But I don't think it's unreasonable to have a bit of reward when I come home."

The icy stare came again, but Mako didn't back down.

"All right. Let's make a deal."

"You're in no position to barter."

"Neither are you."

The other men rose, apparently offended by Mako's daring, and they took stances as though they were about to firebend at him. But Guan stayed seated and narrow-eyed, and he said to them, "Stand down," and they sat. "You convince _all_ of the Triad leaders to join with us, and I'll give her to you. If you fail, I'll kill you. It's as simple as that."

He'd said the words so plainly that Mako didn't know how to react. "What?"

"You're right," Guan said, and his face seemed to have relaxed a bit. "I have no room to barter, either. I've made it clear to you that I've been unsuccessful in acquiring the Triads. I've already said that you're my best option. Why should I lie? Let's work together to better both our stations, yes? If you do as I ask, I'll gladly give you the girl, but if you fail in your mission, you'll have little and less. Consider it incentive for a job well done."

"So," Mako said uncertainly, "you're agreeing to my terms?"

Guan shrugged and stood. "I've got no attachment to the girl outside of private healing, and there are plenty of perfectly capable healers around. She can be your plaything if you really want her to be. Prepare your men and your strategy, four zero five, you'll be deploying in three days."


	21. Departure

Bolin remembered the dream. He remembered the lava ocean, the combustion benders, the helpless citizens of the Ba Sing Se that wasn't Ba Sing Se sinking in agony toward immeasurable depths. He remembered casting the wave down. He had set it against the combustion benders at his own expense.

He remembered being crushed.

The whole world had gone dark beneath the colossal wave, and even when he tried to open his eyes he couldn't see. He could feel, though. He could feel the terror of the people who weren't people, those who had sunk beneath the waves and conveyed their horror through strange vibrations in the earth. He could hear shouting and crying, but the sounds were distorted as though he was under water. Through it all, he thought he could hear someone calling his name.

It was all black. It was all hazy. He couldn't focus his senses. All he could do was lay helpless beneath the cooling rock and feel its enormous weight bearing down on him. His breaths came in slow shallow gasps, and his heartbeat, the heartbeat he'd felt so strong before, had slowed and weakened so that the time between breaths and beats seemed to last forever.

In the dark dream, he thought about Mako, about the corpse he had seen and the burial and the explosion and his own subsequent hysteria in trying to find the culprit. He'd been so driven. But then he'd fallen apart. He'd been attacked. His brain had stopped working, had stopped focusing on the things that should have been important. He'd all but forgotten. He thought of a time outside of the dream, a time he couldn't have measured in his wildest imagination, when _someone_ had said _something_ about finding Mako. He remembered the words: _What happens if we find Mako?_ They rolled over and over in his mind.

_Bring him back._

_ It'll be a pleasant surprise_.

Someone was calling his name.

It sounded like Mako. But it had been so long since Bolin had heard his brother's voice that he couldn't be sure. He couldn't place the sound. He couldn't remember Mako's voice. He wasn't even sure he could remember Mako's face.

He hated himself.

All at once the hardening ground seemed to shift around him. It was an earthquake. He knew. He could feel it in the vibrations. It shook his whole body and forced him to catch his breath. Then it quaked again, stronger this time, and Mako's voice came in more clearly.

He had to find him.

He had to bring him home.

Mako was calling his name.

Another quake. The call strengthened. Something was pulling him from beneath the rock. Someone was lifting the pressure.

He could breathe.

Mako was calling his name.

* * *

Bolin woke with a gasp so sharp it stung, and before he ever registered that he was lying down or that half a dozen people had crowded around him, he bolted upright.

Or he tried to.

Someone was holding him down, a pair of steely strong hands planted firmly on his shoulder and the middle of his chest. A second pair grasped his ankles. Another pair held his wrists. They were cold. They were all cold. He fought against them. All he wanted to do was sit up.

"Stay down, son."

Bolin looked around at faces that seemed utterly foreign. He blinked, confused, and willed his eyes to focus, but they darted about uncontrolled. It made him dizzy. Or was that the pressure in his chest? Or was it the enormous weight pinning him to the floor?

He panicked and pulled against the restraints, but he made no headway. Whatever had pinned him was too strong. Or he was too weak. He didn't know.

He closed his eyes and tugged against it again.

"You can't go back to sleep."

It was the same voice that had told him to stay down. It was the same one that had pulled him from the dream, the same one he'd mistaken for Mako.

It wasn't Mako.

"Open your eyes." A different voice. A soft voice.

Someone was crying.

"Asami, now." A tense, brusque voice.

Bolin was too panicked to register the words, and as he pulled futilely against the hands it seemed that someone was trying to force something to his lips. He jerked away, terrified.

"Hold him!" A desperate, frightened voice.

Yet another pair of hands grabbed him and held his head firmly in place. Their palms clamped over his ears like a metal vise. He gasped again, tried to find his strength again, but was caught off guard when the liquid came in. Someone's hand clapped over his mouth, someone's fingers pinched his nose, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. He was going to drown. He was going to suffocate.

He swallowed, and the hands let go. He coughed pitifully.

Then it happened again, and he thought he would drown again. And then a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth.

By the time it stopped all the fight had gone out of him. There wasn't enough energy to pull away, to resist against whatever bonds were holding him to the ground. There wasn't enough energy to sustain the panic. So, he just laid there, listening to the incoherent mumbling and struggling to breathe. He laid there and listened to Opal crying.

And then it hit him.

Opal.

Opal was crying.

Bolin opened his eyes again and looked between the people with new recognition. Lin's blurry face floated directly over his own, upside-down, and Su was beside her. And Tenzin was opposite Su.

When had he gotten there?

Korra and Asami sat at his waist. He could see Opal crying at his feet with Pabu cuddled around her neck, and now he had stopped struggling she pressed her forehead into his knees and wrapped her arms around his legs. She hugged him as tightly as she could.

An entirely new kind of terror flooded his mind. What had just happened? When did he end up on the floor? Last thing he remembered he'd thrown up. Last thing he remembered his body had begun feeling heavy. And then he was in the dream.

"Oh, thank goodness," Su said, and her head dropped with what looked to Bolin like exhaustion. Her voice was shaking. "Thank goodness..."

"I wouldn't be thanking anything yet," Lin said, and then she looked down at him. "Can you understand me, kid?"

Bolin nodded, and though his head moved only a fraction of an inch, the motion took enormous energy. He felt so tired.

"Good. You know what happened?"

He shook his head no.

"You passed out. Again. Came in here and puked, grabbed your chest, then dropped like a sack of bricks. We thought your heart stopped."

Bolin just stared at her.

"What's he at now?" Su asked, and Lin tucked her fingers under Bolin's chin, pressed them against his throat, and waited. "Is it better?"

"Fifty-five," said Lin after a few seconds. "Definitely better than it was." She looked down at him. "When you went down it was at thirty."

"Fifty-five is still low," Tenzin remarked.

Bolin wondered again when Tenzin had shown up.

"You were gone for a while," Lin continued. "We didn't think you were coming back. We couldn't get anything into you."

Opal sobbed harder. He could feel her trembling through his feet.

"Look, I need you to answer some questions, and I need you to level with me. No lying. No trying to dodge. You'll be in more trouble if you lie to me than you will if you say something we don't like. Do you understand?"

Bolin nodded.

"You told Asami you ate last night, right?"

He nodded again.

"Did you really?"

He nodded again.

"Did you keep it down?"

For the tiniest moment, Bolin's brow furrowed. Why was she asking him this? Was she trying to shame him again? How many times did they have to rub his nose in his failures?

"Did you keep it down?" Lin seemed on the edge of angry.

He shook his head no.

Lin, Su, and Tenzin exchanged very worried, very parental looks.

"You didn't eat anything else yesterday?" Su asked gently, and again Bolin shook his head.

"The day before?" Tenzin asked.

No.

"The day before that?"

No.

He'd forgotten.

He hadn't been hungry.

It hadn't been on purpose.

He just didn't want to keep puking. Or feeling like he was going to.

The familiar heat of embarrassment came back when they exchanged another meaningful look, except this time he didn't have the energy to hide it.

"Four days," Lin said, and she spoke as if Bolin couldn't hear her, like he wasn't even present. "_At least_ four days. It's no wonder things went south so fast. If I'd had any idea I wouldn't have had him lavabending. I wouldn't have had him out of bed at all." Then she looked back down at him. "You kept down _anything_ solid lately?"

No.

Opal sobbed.

"You making yourself puke?"

Confused, Bolin just laid there, staring at her.

"Are you doing it on purpose?" Lin asked again, and this time it was exceptionally stern. She spoke with intentional clarity, with emphasis on every single word.

No.

"You kept down any liquids?"

Yes.

"Good, that's a start, anyway. Asami, Korra, I want more of whatever it was you gave him earlier. Now. Bring it all."

Bolin felt them let go his wrists, and he watched them rise and depart. He looked at Opal, still crying. He wanted to sit up and comfort her, but when he tried Tenzin pushed him gently back down. Bolin didn't have the strength to fight against him.

"Not yet," he said. "You need to lay down."

With a deep, resigned breath, Bolin closed his eyes. But Lin patted him roughly on the face, and he looked back up at her. He wanted to cry.

"You're not going back to sleep, either," Lin said gruffly. "So, don't bother trying."

He looked to Opal again, and this time, she looked back. Her face looked like she'd been crying for days.

"Opal," Su said quietly, "why don't you and Lin switch. Would that help? I don't think we need to hold him down any more."

Opal stifled another sob, but she nodded all the same. Then Bolin's bare feet were back on the floor and he could feel all manner of strange sensations through them, all the relief and fear and tension in every body in the room, Korra and Asami disappearing down the hall. Pabu hopped onto his middle and settled down, warm and comfortable. Bolin closed his eyes again, and Lin hit him again.

"No," she commanded. She spoke the word like he was a misbehaved dog. And then she rose, and as she walked away she said, "Opal, don't let him drift."

In all the hours of all the days and nights he'd spent staring at Opal's always changing expressions, he'd never seen the one she wore when she appeared over him then. It was a look that went beyond fear and beyond confusion. He imagined it was the same look a sick old woman would give her husband on his death bed. She looked as tired as he felt. It scared him.

It took every ounce of strength for him to reach toward her, to put his hand on her face, and he thought that she would burst into tears all over again. Driven by the need to comfort her, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head, pulled her weakly down, and kissed her.

She stayed there long enough for Bolin to consider the sudden strangeness of the whole situation. He'd lost count of the different ways he'd kissed Opal over the years, but upside down was certainly new, and certainly interesting, and perhaps something to try at a time when he was more than half-conscious and slightly farther from death. He'd never imagined kissing her in front of Su, not on the lips, not open-mouthed, and he had never in his wildest dreams entertained that he might ever do it in front of Tenzin and Lin.

But there he was, all the same.

And he hadn't thought twice about it.

At last she pulled away from him, and the look she wore rested somewhere between embarrassed, dumbfounded, and desirous. "You know my mother is watching us," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She touched his cheek gently. "And you know Aunt Lin and Tenzin are right here, don't you?"

He didn't care. He wanted to say the words, but he couldn't produce a sound. So, he drew her down a second time, and whatever reservation had existed prior seemed to disappear. He heard Lin groan, exasperated, and at the same time he heard Su utter an 'oh dear' that seemed both impressed and lightly startled, but if Opal heard or cared she gave no indication. They shared the same kiss they had shared hundreds of times in private with the same passion and intensity and meaning and _drive_ as it always had, and by the time she pulled away again, both her hands were on his face and she had gone quite breathless.

She smiled down at him, but all he could produce in reply was the weakest twitch of a smirk. That was all he had the energy for. He was still too tired.

"I love you," Opal whispered, and she gave a pathetic sniffle.

He would have pulled her down again, except he heard Asami utter, "Wow. That was romantic," and he glanced startled toward the door. She was carrying a glass and a pitcher, and wore a fascinated smile. Beside her, Korra stood stone-faced and wide-eyed. Bolin couldn't tell if she looked more like she was going to cry or vomit or faint.

"All right, lovebirds, that's enough," Lin said dryly. "Let's get you sitting."

Before Bolin could react, Su and Tenzin had grabbed him beneath his arms and slid him toward Opal. She pulled him up, wrapped her arm around his waist, and held him against her. Pabu fell into his lap.

Dizzy and exhausted, Bolin laid his head on Opal's shoulder.

"No sleeping," Lin ordered. "Look at me."

He looked, but he didn't lift his head.

"You're going to pass out again if you don't get something in you and keep it there. And you might not be so lucky to wake up next time. Do you understand that?"

He nodded.

"Then don't fight us on this." Lin paused, and Bolin pressed his face into Opal's neck. "Asami, let's go."

Bolin didn't fight, and three painfully slow, disgustingly sweet glasses later it seemed that the lot of them were placated, and though he felt a bit of life coming back into him, he also felt like he'd throw up again. But they stopped forcing things into him. They turned their attention elsewhere, and it seemed that amongst tense talk of twenty-four-hour surveillance and liquid diets and force feeding and departure to Zaofu, Bolin himself had been forgotten. Everything had gone quiet, and everyone seemed to have calmed.

He wanted to sleep, but every time he began to drift Opal would shake him gently and whisper words at him he didn't really hear. And even if Opal's constant prodding wasn't enough, every so often Lin would call over at them to check that he was awake, and unless he made direct eye contact with her she would walk over and toe him gently in the leg with her boot until he did. He imagined she meant well, in her own way. It just wasn't like Lin to care so much.

As he lay, he noticed a pattern of words used among the talking, words that were unflattering but diplomatic: _unstable, troubled, sick, depressed_, and they all seemed to be used when discussing him. He was certain they knew he could hear: When Lin uttered the word _suicidal_ Tenzin, Su, Korra, and Asami had all shushed her severely, and it hadn't been used again. And there were other words, too, words like _shut down_ and _damaged _and _all in his head_ and _serious_ and _starvation_, and for some reason Su kept talking about his feet. It could have been worse, he thought. She could have been talking about his breakdown.

Bolin couldn't have guessed what time it was when they all approached again. He'd been so content to simply lay with Opal that he hadn't considered it.

"Sweetheart, I need to talk to you," Su said, and she knelt and touched his face. "I need to talk to you and then you can go to sleep, okay?"

He looked at her, and she smiled at him. He didn't smile back. He wasn't pleased with her. She was holding his rest hostage for a conversation.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked.

He nestled back into Opal's neck.

"I'll take that as a yes." Su sighed, and Bolin wasn't going to correct her. "Well, we've all been talking for a while and trying to figure out what to do to help you. I'm sorry that you didn't have a say in the matter, but at this point it can't really be helped." She paused and put her hand on his back. "Are you listening to me?"

Again, he looked at her. It was all the indication he could give.

"You're going to go back to Air Temple Island for a few days while I make arrangements to get you to Zaofu. Then, when you're a little stronger, you're going to come home with me and I'm going to take care of you. I think that we can both agree that that's the best thing, don't you think?"

He didn't move. Pabu had started licking the back of his hand.

"And here's the part you're going to take issue with," she paused again. "While you're on Air Temple Island, you'll be on bed rest, and we're going to have someone sit with you. Someone will be with you all the time until you come home with me, even when you sleep and even when you go to the bathroom. Do you understand? And someone is going to bring you food and make sure you actually eat."

He narrowed his eyes dangerously at her, but didn't have the energy to maintain the glare.

"That's what I thought. Now, I realize that this is... Delicate... But I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I'm happy to let Opal stay overnight with you in the boy's dormitory if it'll help. Tenzin gave the okay, too."

He felt Opal shift nervously beneath him, and she looked between him and Su confusedly. Her heart had begun to pound. "Mom?"

"You heard me," Su said sternly to Opal. "You can sleep. You can not sleep. I don't care. Granted, I doubt he'll have enough energy to do much besides rest for the few days he's there."

He felt the heat rush into Opal's face, and a similar heat rushed into his own. It was embarrassing. Su had no right to make those kinds of remarks about him, especially not with an audience. He didn't want her to mock him in front of everyone. She didn't know what he could do. She didn't know how much energy he did or didn't have.

He pressed his face back into Opal's neck. He wanted to disappear.

"So, Opal will stay with you overnight," Su continued, apparently unfazed by their reactions. "Korra and Asami will take turns days and evenings. If they've got to take care of business in the city, then Tenzin or Pema will cover."

The embarrassment lingered. It shifted. Bolin felt like he was going to cry again. He didn't want to be watched. He didn't want to be babysat. He wasn't a _child_. Didn't they see that this wouldn't help anything? Didn't they see that this would just make him feel worse?

"I know this is hard," Su said, and she rubbed his back. "I know this isn't what you want, but we have to make sure that you're safe before anything else. We have to get you healthy again."

He stifled a sob and covered his face, and when Pabu whimpered at him Opal tightened her hold. He didn't want them to see him cry. It was the same as it had been in the hallway. Everyone was staring at him. Everyone was watching him. He could feel them. He could feel their anxiety. But this time he didn't have the energy to hide. He didn't have the energy to tremble. All the anger had gone out of him. All the indignation had gone out of him, and all that was left was stark reality.

He'd brought this on himself.

He should've hid it better.

He should've been a better liar.

He shouldn't have opened up to Korra.

He shouldn't have waked in the hospital.

"And Lin explained to us what else happened today, about how the combustion bender threatened you. You're not strong enough to protect yourself right now. You know that as much as I do. Getting you out of the city is the safest thing we can do."

He let go a shaky breath.

"Now, will you work with us?"

He didn't answer. He was too caught up imagining how awful the next days would be. He would be all but imprisoned. The privacy he had enjoyed since coming home would be gone. There would be no more training in the morning, no more practicing waterbending, no more meditation, no more walks outside, no more quiet. There was no more choice. It would all be decided for him.

"Bolin, will you try?"

He had no choice, so he nodded, and as he moved he felt warm wetness around his eyes and on Opal's neck, and he suddenly found himself working hard to control his breathing. He desperately didn't want to cry again. Not in front of everyone.

"You've been awake for a couple hours now. Do you want to try to sleep?"

For a moment Bolin did nothing. He was conflicted. The sooner he slept the sooner the day would come, and then he would be locked in his room with constant supervision and force-feeding and inescapable embarrassment. But he was so tired. He could barely stay sitting, had begun relying almost completely on Opal to hold him upright, and even now he found himself fighting to stay awake. If he was asleep, he wouldn't hear what they were saying about him. If he was asleep he wouldn't have to face the horrible, horrible truth.

He'd proved them right.

He'd proved all of them right.

Another sob bubbled to the surface, and Bolin worked hard to hold it in. He turned his forehead into Opal's shoulder, and she hugged him still tighter. Pabu chittered. Bolin shuddered. He didn't want to make a choice, and yet he recognized that this was likely the last real choice he would make for himself for a long, long time. Everything hereafter would be scripted. Everything would be planned by whatever people were in charge of his supervision at the time. Every decision from here on out would provide nothing more than the illusion of choice.

"Bolin?" Su asked again, gentler still. "Do you want to sleep?"

Yes.

"Do you want to try to walk to the sofa or should we carry you?"

Sudden, unyielding shame stopped his thoughts dead in his brain. The illusion had already begun. He could _try_ to walk. How could he have missed the language Su had used? He could barely sit up without help: How could anyone expect him to stand? How could anyone expect him to _walk_? He would stumble and fall and embarrass himself even more, and everyone would touch him again, and they would coddle him again, and they would talk to him in that horrible, pitying voice that everyone seemed to be using.

He didn't want it.

He hated himself.

But the alternative was no better. He shouldn't need to be carried at all. He couldn't remember a time he'd been unable to move under his own power, not even as a kid on the street. Every time he'd been sick or hurt or tired he'd gotten to his bed-or whatever pile of junk served as his bed-on his own steam. Mako had never _had_ to carry him, not once. And who would carry him now? Lin? Su? Some combination of Korra and Asami and Opal? There was no way they would be able to lift him independently, even with his diminished weight. If the girls were to do it, they'd have to hold him by his arms and his feet and lug him across the room like a rolled-up carpet. The only other choice was Tenzin, and the thought of being carried like a baby by _him_ was even more emasculating than the thought of being carried by the girls.

"I need you to communicate with me, sweetheart," Su said, and she brushed his shoulder with the same gentle touch she had used to mollify him when he broke down in the hallway.

He had the sudden urge to hit her. He didn't want her to touch him like that, all motherly like she cared at all. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want her comfort. She was going to lock him up.

He didn't act on the impulse.

"Even if you don't talk, I need you to let me know what you want," Su continued. But she clipped the final word short, and through her touch Bolin could feel her anxiety mounting. "Are you okay?" she whispered. "You're going all tense again."

Bolin drew two enormous breaths to ready himself to speak. "I want..." he stopped. He was tired of hearing such a strange, feeble voice coming out of his mouth in barely more than a whisper. He wanted to sound like himself again instead of some timid, depressed little boy. "I want to... To sleep on the floor."

He felt them staring at him again, but didn't know if it was because of what he said or the fact that he had said it at all, and he wished he'd just stayed silent.

"We can't let you sleep on the floor," Su said. "It won't be comfortable for you, you won't rest well."

The illusion of choice.

What did it matter.

"Then carry me."

He'd spoken with more power that time, power generated by searing hatred and embarrassment and spite. He'd spat the words the same way he'd done when he confessed in the hall. But Su didn't say 'oh dear' again and she didn't recoil away from him.

"Okay," she said, and she lifted Pabu from his middle.

And then, to his great horror, Tenzin picked him up like a baby and transferred him back to the sofa.

The moment he'd been set down, Bolin turned his back to the room, curled up, and buried his face as far into the cushions as he could. He was ashamed. He covered what remained of his face with his arms and simply laid there. Someone-Tenzin or Su, most likely-covered him, and a few moments later Pabu jumped up and sat on his thigh. But Bolin didn't want the company. When Pabu nosed him in the arm, he pushed him gently away, and when Pabu tried a second time, Bolin pushed him away again. With a pathetic whine, the fire ferret curled up behind Bolin's knees and lay silent.

Again, he could hear people talking, but now his feet were off the ground he couldn't feel them anymore. It was harder to understand what they were saying. All Bolin knew was that they no longer sounded afraid or angry or nervous. The voices sounded sad now, and that made him sad, too.

He pulled the blanket over his head and cried as silently as he could, and by the time Opal had come to keep him company he was spent. Part of him wanted her to go away, but part of him wanted her to stay. Too exhausted to make the decision, he laid there in quiet and pretended to be asleep.

* * *

A melancholic pall seemed to have fallen over Air Temple Island, seemed to follow Bolin wherever he went, and the very moment he'd been put back in his room there came a marked change in everyone's behavior: Meelo and Rohan stopped running and playing in the halls, Jinora spent more time in her own room losing herself in books, Ikki wandered more often to the far reaches of the island, and even Tenzin and Pema seemed more reserved than usual. Asami stayed away unless it was her turn to watch, and Opal seemed generally hesitant to even enter Bolin's room.

Korra had watched him sleep the first eight hours he was back on the island, waking him at intervals, and it had been an entirely uninteresting time. An acolyte brought a glass of some thick, light green liquid, and though it had taken a long time and some mild threatening on Korra's part, Bolin drank it. Three hours later came a red liquid of the same consistency, and Bolin had seemed even more agitated about it than the green one. The whole while Korra couldn't be sure if he was upset because people kept waking him up or because people were monitoring his every move.

She imagined that she'd be upset too, if she was in his position.

Asami arrived that afternoon with a Pai Sho board and two large books under her arm, and after Korra briefed her on the day's news, or what little there was. Then Asami had kissed her lovingly on the cheek and closed the door. Korra lingered long enough to hear Asami greet Bolin cheerfully, and then to hear Asami's voice deflate when Bolin didn't respond.

He hadn't talked to Korra, either.

He hadn't talked to anyone.

The second day brought little improvement. After her morning meditation, Korra entered his room to find him and Opal sitting on the bed with an uncomfortable distance between them, each with their knees up, their arms resting on their knees, and their chins resting on their arms. It was so silent when Korra entered that even Pabu didn't make a sound from his place on the pillow, and Opal didn't say goodbye when she left.

The same as she had the day before, Korra sat on the floor against the wall, and prepared herself for another eight to ten hours of complete silence.

"You can sit on the bed."

Korra thought for a moment that she had imagined the words, but when she looked up, startled, Bolin was clearly looking at her, had clearly raised his head. He still looked angry and sad and generally ill-tempered, but he'd spoken to her all the same, and Korra wasn't about to argue.

She took a seat at the foot of the bed with her back against the wall, hugged her knees to her chest, and they sat in silence. Bolin didn't even protest when the acolytes brought him his food. If anything, he seemed even more pitiful than the day before. He looked defeated.

Asami didn't bring the Pai Sho board that afternoon, and on the third morning, Bolin and Opal looked even more uncomfortable than the second. The space between them seemed to have grown. The mood was so tense that Pabu wasn't even on the bed: he was huddled underneath. Bolin didn't so much as look up when Opal left, and she didn't say goodbye.

Korra found her position at the foot of the bed and didn't bother saying hello. She just put her head down and began the long wait for Asami to show up.

Around noon that day, things suddenly changed. An acolyte dropped off the day's third glass of whatever it was they were feeding him, but Bolin didn't move. He didn't even flinch, and for a few seconds Korra worried that he'd gone unconscious again. But then she reached out to touch him, and he jerked away.

"I'm awake," he said coldly.

"You need to eat," Korra said. "The acolyte just-"

"I don't want it."

Korra shut up. The way he snapped had startled her. "You don't really have a choice," she said gently once she had recovered.

Bolin assumed a posture that Korra hadn't seen in him before, a tense posture that seemed full of energy, like he was ready to burst. And he laughed a bitter, hateful laugh that filled Korra with a sense of extreme foreboding. And then he raised his head and stared at the wall opposite the bed, and Korra knew that the eruption was imminent.

"Isn't that the problem?" he said. "Isn't that the whole problem with all of this? I don't have a choice! I can't decide anything I do anymore! You want me to drink this crap? Fine!" He stood, snatched the glass from the table, and downed it in one. Korra was surprised by how steady he seemed on his feet. He seemed to have regained a little strength, at least. "There. Are you happy now?" he slammed the glass back down so hard that Korra was surprised it didn't shatter. Then he began to pace in front of the bed. "You people have taken _everything_ away from me! I can't even go to the bathroom by myself! And why? Because you all think I'm going to die or kill myself or hurt myself or..." He stalled and gave a cry of frustration, pressed his hands to his forehead.

"To be fair, you did collapse because you-"

"I know! You think I don't know that? I was _there_! I know exactly what happened! Well, except for the parts I was unconscious for, I don't know what happened then, but I know the rest! I mean, I get it. I really do. I understand why everyone is worried but that's why I kept all this stuff away from you guys! I knew you'd overreact! I knew everyone would freak out!"

"You didn't eat for four days," Korra said, deadpan.

"I _tried_!"

"You ate a steam bun. Oh boy."

"I still tried! And it's like that means nothing to any of you! And now everyone is tiptoeing around me like I'm going to explode in their faces and nobody will talk to me and everyone is acting all afraid of me. Or afraid _for_ me, I don't know which. Everyone is avoiding me! I hate it! I can't make any decisions for myself anymore! Nobody trusts what I say about myself! Nobody trusts what I say about anything! Opal won't even _touch_ me! She's the only reason that I'm even _trying_ right now and she won't even _hug_ me, she won't even hold my hand, never mind trying anything else! It's like she's afraid she's going to _break_ me or something! I mean, I'm glad she gets to spend the nights in here but what good is it if we don't get to _spend the nights_ together? I'm...I'm _frustrated_ and angry and I really just need to-"

He stopped very suddenly, stopped almost mid-step and looked at the ground, and Korra's heart jumped to her throat. He turned, and for a moment she thought he might aim his tirade at her directly, but instead of continuing to rant, he cast a look on her that harkened back to his first few days out of the hospital, the days of total, brain-dead confusion.

"Why am I even saying this to you?" He asked, and his voice had gone to disbelief. He didn't seem embarrassed, but he did seem surprised at himself, like he'd not meant to say what he had said out loud. "Every time I tell you anything it gets me in trouble. Why am I talking to you about this?"

Korra wasn't sure what to say. She didn't know why he was talking about it either. He'd never discussed his relationship with Opal with her before, and while Korra had certainly made some safe assumptions about their status, he'd never confirmed them so directly. The whole thing had her feeling mildly uncomfortable, especially when she remembered the kiss he'd given her the night of the collapse. It had been the same kiss he'd shared with Opal when he was laying half dead on the floor. She hadn't realized that truth until she'd seen it from the outside. But now she knew what that kiss really meant, and whenever she thought about it the flutter came back stronger than ever.

She shifted her position on the bed, nervous. The anxious bubble was inflating in her stomach again, spreading its strange and juvenile warmth through her middle.

"I don't know," she said at last with a tiny stammer. "I don't know why you're talking to me about this."

He sat heavily back down on the edge of the bed and dropped his forehead into his hands. It seemed that the anger had faded and left exhaustion in its place. "I mean... You know what I'm talking about. You know what it's like. Opal and I haven't seen each other for what... A _month_? We haven't been alone together for weeks and now we've got time and privacy and we even have the luxury of a _door_ and a _bed_ and she won't even consider it!" The cry of frustration came weaker this time, and he shook his head helplessly.

Korra felt even more unsure what to say now. He had put her on the spot. He was trying to empathize. It was a step in the right direction, sure, but she had no idea how to make a connection. She floundered, she stammered a bit, and she began to fidget. She felt a little embarrassed. "Bolin... I might not be the best person to talk to about..." She stopped. For some reason the words caught in her throat.

Bolin pulled himself the rest of the way onto the bed and turned to face Korra again. He didn't look angry anymore. Now, he looked somewhere between curious and concerned. "You understand what it's like...Don't you?"

"No," Korra replied, and she was surprised by how honestly the word had come out. "I don't know what you mean at all."

Bolin went very pale, and for a moment Korra worried he might faint again. "You mean..." he stammered. "You mean you and Mako never...?"

"No."

"And you and Asami haven't..."

"No."

"Oh..." Bolin looked down at the blanket bashfully, and now he was fidgeting, too. The color had come back into his face. A little too much color had come back into his face. He'd gone pink. "Then I guess this just got a little awkward."

He backed up to the wall, drew his knees to his chest again, and dropped his head down. It was the same defeated, depressed position he'd sat in for the last three days.

"I can talk to her, if you want," Korra said.

"And what exactly are you going to say?" The attitude had come back. His voice had taken on an edge of anger and sarcasm. "Last time you told someone what I said I ended up on house arrest."

"You're not on house arrest. And I don't know what I would say. I don't know how to bring up the idea at all. But I can try, if you want."

Bolin just shook his head. Korra could see him deflating. She felt guilty.

"You're supposed to be leaving for Zaofu tomorrow," Korra reasoned, and she leaned her head against the wall. She stared at the ceiling, trying to think. "And you know that Opal is going to stay here so she can go with Asami and me. We had that planned a long time ago. So tonight is the last time you're going to see her for at least a few days, maybe a week."

"I know, I know. Don't remind me."

"I'll talk to her this evening. I'll see what I can do to get her to ease up a little."

Bolin looked nervous, now.

"I'll be delicate," Korra said, reassuringly. "I'm not just going to walk up to her and say, 'Hey, Opal, you know Bolin wants-'"

"I get it," Bolin interrupted. "I get it."

"You used to trust me," Korra said sadly. "Just, trust me again a little bit, okay?"

Bolin looked at her, his face gone blank. "I just want things to be normal again," he sighed. Then he laid his head back on his arms.

The silence lasted until Korra left.

Korra made her way directly to Opal's room in the girl's dormitory, the room she'd been assigned but almost never occupied. She looked tired but still sat on the bed staring at a book without turning the pages. It was clear she wasn't reading it. When Korra entered, she looked up sleepily.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," Korra replied. "I just thought I'd check in with you."

It wasn't a _total_ lie.

"Oh," Opal said. "Well, here I am. Jinora gave me this book to read but I think I'm just too tired."

The opportunity was too good to pass up. "Too tired to read, huh? Not been getting much sleep?" Korra had meant the words to come out a playful tease, a way to open the door into the difficult conversation, but the look Opal gave her shut the thought down at once.

"No," Opal said tersely. "I haven't."

"Oh."

Awkward silence.

"So," Korra pressed on, "we're leaving tomorrow. Are you ready to go?"

Opal shrugged and looked back down at the book. "As ready as I'm going to be, considering we don't really know what we're getting into."

Awkward silence.

"I don't want to be rude, but did you _need_ something?" Opal said after a few seconds. She didn't sound upset, but Korra knew that she was catching on to the fact that this wasn't just a friendly visit. "Because you're acting kind of weird."

"Oh, well, I uh," Korra stammered, then she left off lamely.

"_Well you uh_ what?"

"I was just wondering how things are," Korra said at last, "between you... And Bolin... Lately."

Korra couldn't tell if Opal looked indignant or confused. Her face screwed up for just a moment before she relaxed again, and then Opal looked down at the book with a somewhat melancholy expression.

"Not great," she said quietly. "But I guess that's to be expected."

"I guess," Korra agreed. "He paid you a really nice compliment this morning."

"Oh? He talked to you?"

Korra nodded, but was nervous. She wondered if he had talked to Opal. He hadn't talked to Asami, hadn't talked to the acolytes, and hadn't talked to either Tenzin or Pema since returning to the island. It wasn't unreasonable to think he'd treat Opal the same way.

"Yeah," Korra said.

Opal watched her expectantly for a moment, and then said, "Well? Are you going to tell me what he said?"

Korra floundered. She didn't exactly want to use Bolin's words-they hadn't been particularly uplifting-but she also didn't want to get caught in an outright lie. "Well," she said slowly, "he said that you're the reason he's hanging on."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Korra sighed. "He loves you," she said, and the flutter erupted in her stomach again. "And he wants things to be as normal as they can between the two of you. That's what he said."

Again, the confused, indignant look.

"Look," Korra's voice went very serious, "everything in his life is really messed up right now. Everybody knows that. And you're the only person who can provide him some stability. You're the only thing in his life that's remained the same through this whole mess. You're his foundation, and if you're shaky then he's not going to be able to rebuild."

Opal didn't say anything. She just stared at Korra and wore much the same expression that Bolin took on when he'd been offended or confused. It was endearing, in a way, how much the two had rubbed off on each other. Again, Korra felt the tiniest bit of jealousy.

"Just...Just think about it, okay?" Korra said. And then she left without affording Opal the chance to respond.

Korra spent the rest of the evening in her room, preparing to depart for the Boiling Rock investigation. Tenzin had mentioned that such a trip might take four or five days, so she packed a bag with clothes and provisions to account for six. It never hurt to be over prepared.

Asami came in well after dinner time. She looked exhausted, and she flopped down on Korra's bed without uttering a word and draped her arm over her eyes.

"That bad?" Korra asked.

"He's just so _quiet_," Asami replied. "It's weird. It's creepy! I don't like it at all. And sitting there for such a long time, it's tiring."

"I know," Korra agreed. "But I think him going to Zaofu will do a lot of good for everyone. It'll give him time to recover and it'll let all of us stop tiptoeing around the fact that Mako might be out there somewhere."

"I hope we find him."

"I do, too."

They lay in the quiet for a while.

"So, Bolin and Opal are pretty serious, then," Asami said quietly, as though the thought had just struck her.

"Yeah," Korra said, downcast. "They're pretty serious."

"Well, good for them," Asami said.

"Yeah. Good for them."

They fell into quiet again.

As she lay on the bed with Asami at her feet, Korra couldn't help but compare their relationship to Bolin and Opal's, and she couldn't help but see the shortcomings. Of course, they had been together far longer than she and Asami had, but even when they first met they seemed to have had a comfort with each other that Korra worried she would never feel with Asami. It wasn't to say that Asami made her uncomfortable, but it seemed to be a different kind of comfort. Where Korra and Asami might spill their darkest secrets to one another, Bolin and Opal would live them together.

Or they might have before the collapse.

All at once Korra sat upright, an idea in her head that hadn't been there before, and she watched Asami laying there and wondered why they shouldn't be able to share the same sort of connection. She wondered if perhaps it was time to move forward.

"Are you okay?" Asami asked. It seemed she had noticed Korra's staring.

"Yeah," Korra replied. She felt herself blushing again, and she looked down. She fidgeted. "I was just thinking... Maybe we..." She paused and drew a deep breath. She was stammering. She sounded stupid. Words weren't going to do the trick.

Asami sat up, her forehead creased with concern. "What's wrong?"

All Korra could do for a long time was look at Asami and wonder why she was so nervous about engaging romantically with her. Yes, she'd had relatively little experience with it, especially with initiating, but it should have been easy. It should have been just as easy as it had once been to kiss Mako.

But it wasn't.

It took every ounce of Korra's willpower to force herself forward, and even as her lips connected with Asami's it felt to her as clumsy and forced and a little bit awkward. The kiss lasted only long enough for Korra to realize that she hadn't done it right.

She'd never kissed a girl before.

She was used to kissing boys, and she was used to the boys taking the lead.

This was going to be more complicated than she thought.

"Well," Asami said, a little breathless, "that was a surprise."

Korra felt her face going a darker shade of red. "Sorry."

Asami laughed. "Don't apologize! I just wasn't expecting that. I thought something really serious was wrong."

"Oh."

"Let's lay down," Asami said softly. "We've got a really long day ahead of us, and an early morning besides."

Korra nodded, and she fell back onto her pillow. Asami fell down beside her, and the two shared a look that Korra could only call _intimate_. Asami smiled in a way that Korra hadn't seen before. And then Asami kissed her, and it felt right.

When Korra fell asleep, she felt a little more whole than she had felt before.

Asami woke her at sunrise the next morning with a gentle shake and a kiss on the forehead, and Korra knew that the step had been taken. She sat up with a stretch, and Asami smiled.

"We've got a little under an hour before Su said she wanted to leave for Zaofu," Asami explained. "I'm going to go get us some breakfast, why don't you go get Opal and Bolin and they can come join us. It'll be the last time we see him for a while. It might be nice."

Asami left before Korra could object.

Korra got around very slowly. On days prior she hadn't thought twice about the shift change, but today she did. Today, she was a little nervous. Considering the conversation she'd had with Bolin yesterday, she wasn't exactly sure what she would see. The same as every other day, she greeted the sentries at their posts and knocked gently on the door. When nobody answered, she knocked again a hair louder. And nobody answered again.

She wasn't sure what she expected when she went in the room, but she found herself surprised by the _normalcy_ of it all. There was no hiding that her talk with Opal had worked to great effect. Between the clothes on the floor and their own disheveled appearances, that fact was clear. But there was nothing indecent about what she'd walked in on, not like she had feared there'd be. They were sleeping close beneath the blankets, him behind her, his arm around her middle. It was, apart from the apparent nakedness, the exact position that Bolin had assumed with Korra the night he'd kissed her.

The flutter erupted again. Her stomach felt very warm inside.

If Korra hadn't been sure how to wake Bolin when he was clothed, she certainly didn't know how to do it now.

She cleared her throat.

They didn't move.

She cleared her throat again, louder.

They didn't move again. But this time, Pabu poked his head out from beneath the bed and ran to her happily, skittered up her leg and sat on her shoulder.

"Good morning, Pabu," she said, and she scratched the fire ferret under the chin. "You want to go wake them up for me?"

Pabu licked her finger and jumped down, and then he jumped up on the bed and began nibbling at Bolin's hand. She always found it fascinating how Pabu managed to understand exactly what they wanted him to do.

"Go away, Pabu," Bolin said sleepily, and he brushed Pabu away. But Pabu chittered at him and bit him a little harder, and Bolin opened his eyes, pushed himself up to rest on his elbow, and glared at him. "Pabu, not right now! I'm trying to-"

He interrupted himself with a high pitched yelp the minute he saw Korra standing in the doorway, and his reaction woke Opal, who noticed immediately. She didn't yelp, though. She just stared at Korra with a look of utter panic.

Korra felt herself turning red. "I uh, I was told to come wake you up for breakfast."

By this point, Bolin had yanked the sheets to his neck, and Opal's face had gone to rest. "Oh," said Opal gently. Now she was over her initial fright, she seemed completely normal, as though this scenario was commonplace. "What time is it?"

"A little past seven, I think," Korra replied. "Su wants to leave for Zaofu in an hour or so, so Asami was going to get us all some breakfast to share." She paused awkwardly and looked directly at Bolin. "If you'll eat it, anyway."

Bolin still looked panicked, but it was a different panic than what he'd looked a few nights prior. This was an _I'm in trouble_ panic more than a blind, uncontrollable fear. He looked like a little kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. In a way, Korra thought it was cute.

"Look," Korra said flatly, "I get it. You're in bed together. I don't care. Are you going to come for breakfast or not?"

Opal and Bolin exchanged a look, and Opal shrugged. Then Bolin shrugged. They both looked back to Korra.

"Sure," Opal said. "But we're going to need a few minutes. Can we meet you?"

Korra nodded, and as she closed the door behind her she heard Opal say, "What are you so uptight about anyway?"

She smiled as she walked to the kitchens.

Korra hadn't seen Bolin in such a pleasant mood since before the explosion in Ba Sing Se. He sat at the table and patted Pabu absently on the head, watched them eat, participated at least partly in some of the conversations, and didn't complain when Pema scolded him for being out of bed. To be fair, Pema's heart wasn't in it, so the scolding hadn't been too serious.

More, there was a distinct difference in the way he and Opal interacted, and again Korra couldn't help but compare herself and Asami to them. They were sitting closer, but not too close as to be awkward for the others at the table, and when they bumped each other they didn't apologize. They didn't mention it at all, in fact, which served as more proof of their unconditional comfort with one another.

Opal offered to share her breakfast with Bolin when it came, but he refused and Opal didn't seem bothered. And when Opal asked to try some of Bolin's, he relinquished his glass without hesitation. He didn't even laugh at her when she spat it back out. He simply said, "If you drink it fast enough, you don't taste it," and then downed the whole glass in less than ten seconds while Opal stared disgustedly at him. When he'd finished, he looked back at her and said quite deadpan, "Well, it saves time anyway."

The hour passed quickly, and Korra, Asami, and Opal escorted Bolin to the platform from which Su's airship would depart. Pabu jumped from his shoulder and scampered into the airship, and Su greeted them all pleasantly and hugged them all in turn. She spent a particularly long time looking Bolin up and down before pronouncing that he looked better than he had a few days ago, and though Bolin hadn't said anything in reply, Korra noted that his face had turned pink.

And then it was time to say good-bye. Tenzin, Pema, and the airbender children arrived on the platform and wished them well. To Korra's surprise, Tenzin extended his hand to Bolin in a gesture of fraternal respect, and Bolin had taken it a bit bashfully. Then Pema hugged him, and as soon as she had let go Asami hurled herself forward so forcefully that Bolin stumbled, and she stayed latched on to his front for a solid minute. She threatened him with all manner of punishments if he didn't take care of himself, and then she let him go with an enormous kiss on the cheek, and he went even more pink than he'd been before.

For an awkward moment, Korra looked at him, and he looked at Korra, and it seemed that neither of them really knew what to do. But then he timidly extended his arms and beckoned her forward, and Korra walked into him. The embrace caused the same strong shot of adrenaline to course from her head to her toes, and when he whispered a hushed, "Thank you," in her ear, goosebumps sprang up on her arms. When she pulled away, he wore the same sheepish grin he'd worn the night he'd kissed her, and for the first time, the thought of kissing him back popped unbidden into her brain.

Then it was Opal's turn, and for a few moments they just stood looking at each other. It was a different look than what Bolin and Korra had shared. It was a look that said in every way that they knew what to do, but they weren't sure if it was acceptable in their present company.

"You don't need my permission to kiss each other," Su said dryly. "You certainly didn't seem to need it the other night."

The tension broken, Opal rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck. As if by instinct, his went around her waist, and she buried her head in his chest and he turned his face down. Korra thought she could see him whispering, but there was no way to know what he was saying. When they pulled apart, Opal had gone scarlet again. And then he kissed her.

It was like something straight from a mover, the way he'd done it, and not for the first time Korra found herself surprised by just how capable of romance Bolin was. He'd come in low and swept Opal in, and his hand found its way automatically to her neck, his thumb on her cheek, and they lingered together comfortably.

It felt to Korra that they kissed for an eternity, an eternity that she spent watching and remembering how she had experienced that same kiss, and how it had been so strange and so startling and so _warm_, and how he'd opened his mouth against hers the same way that he had done to Opal's a thousand times before. She remembered the kiss Asami had given her the night prior, and though it had certainly been pleasant it hadn't given her the same electric feeling that Bolin's had, and Korra wondered if perhaps it was the touch of experience that had set his apart.

Then Bolin and Opal broke apart, and they stared at each other as if it was the last time they'd see each other for a lifetime. At some point, Asami had grabbed Korra's hand and held it tight, and when Korra looked at her, her eyes had taken on a misty look like she was ready to cry.

She could barely hear Bolin say, "I love you."

Opal burst into tears and threw herself at him again, and she held him around his middle and cried into his chest while he shushed her and stroked her head and kissed her hair. When it seemed she had calmed, Bolin tucked his finger under her chin and drew her into another kiss, a shorter kiss, and when he pulled away he grinned lopsidedly.

"I'll see you in a few days," he said, and he brushed the tears from her face. "Okay?"

Opal nodded and rubbed at her face. "I love you."

He grinned and kissed her forehead. "I love you, too."

And then Bolin jammed his hands into his pockets and turned to Su with a shrug, and she motioned him toward her. She wore a look of maternal satisfaction. With one last wave, Su planted her hand in the middle of Bolin's back and walked him silently up the ramp into the airship.

He didn't look back to see Korra trying not to cry.


	22. Arrival

Mako had never been one for remembering his dreams. Not since his parents died. Too much of his time after that horrific event had been spent fending for himself, caring for Bolin, and making sure that the two of them could make it through the night. He didn't have the luxury of dwelling too much on what he imagined on the rare occasions he slept restfully enough to dream. Most nights in those times he'd stayed awake into the small hours, watching and waiting for someone or something to come creeping out of the shadows in the alleys of Republic City to attack them. And the rare nights he wasn't afraid, he'd stayed awake into the small hours watching Bolin fitfully sleeping on whatever dumpster pile they called home at the time, wondering to himself how much longer he'd be able to carry the burden of their safety.

But the three nights prior to his deployment, Mako slept hard and dreamed deeply of memories from those days.

He'd worked so hard, back then. He'd worked so hard to make sure that Bolin stayed sheltered from the harsh realities of life on the streets. He'd sacrificed himself for the benefit of his little brother and for a while he'd felt as though they would make it. He had pulled them through all manner of dangerous situations and illnesses and injuries, even when he didn't want to move on himself. He did it all to keep Bolin safe.

In Mako's dreams, they were together. Bolin was still ten years old and just as mindless and naive as he ever was. And he got into trouble. He ate too much of the food. He stuck his nose in places it didn't belong. He caused more trouble than he was worth. But in his dreams, Mako didn't mind, because in the end they were both healthy. In the end, they were both alive.

When Mako woke each of those three mornings, he thought on the dreams he'd had, and for the first time in his life he turned his mind to those days with purpose. That time in his life had been hard, yes, but it had also been rewarding: He had raised a child, even as a child himself. And he hadn't just raised a _child_: He'd raised a truly decent human being who strived to cling to every scrap of happiness he could find and learned to balance pragmatism with humor. Almost, anyway. He had raised a human being who housed just a little too much empathy in his enormous heart, even if it meant that Mako himself had grown just a little too cold.

He wondered what his parents would think of how they turned out in the end.

He wondered what they would think if they knew Bolin was gone.

It was hard for Mako to pretend for those three days, but he managed. Through hours of morning training and afternoons of meetings about logistics and rendezvous points and all manner of other bureaucracy, he kept a straight face and maintained the strongest front of allegiance he could muster. He endured his fitting for civilian clothes straight-faced, but the whole while he was thinking about Bolin. He thought about how hard he'd worked to keep them both alive, only to have it all be for nothing in the end. He thought about how much he hated these people and how badly he wanted to bring them down.

The night before his departure he laid with Toru and discussed the whole operation, partly to let her know what he was going to do and partly to make sure he'd gotten everything straight in his own head. He explained how the voyage would take two days each way, how they would travel on a cargo ship with other quads under the pretense of exporting Fire Nation goods to Republic City. They'd stay for some period of time, and then come home.

Everything about their arrival had been planned down to the hour: An attack would coincide with the docking of their ship to draw police presence away from the pier. Mako and his men would disembark, disappear into the alleyways, and make their way to a prearranged rendezvous in the Dragon Flats borough, where they would be housed in an inn fronted by the Society. He'd have the remainder of that day to settle and finalize his plans, but was scheduled to meet with a Triad representative at some seedy sounding bar at ten o'clock.

Mako wasn't sure exactly how that meeting would go yet. But providing he came out the other side alive, he'd have ample time to execute his own personal plans before hopping the same cargo vessel back to Fire Fountain City.

Toru had cried when Mako explained the deal he'd made with Guan, and she'd stayed with him the rest of that night.

The morning of his departure, Mako rose early, packed what few things he had, and began the long walk to the northern beach with his duffel slung over his shoulder. He met Yaozhu along the way, and for the rest of the walk Yaozhu wouldn't shut up about how excited he was to finally get to see the big city. His naivety was endearing. It reminded Mako of Bolin.

The cargo vessel itself was enormous and crawling with people. Mako and Yaozhu met with Jing and Fa quickly, and they boarded the ship without much idea of where they would go or what they would do when they got there.

An officer brandishing a palm-sized notebook met them at the top of the boarding ramp.

"Your number?" asked the officer.

"Four zero five," Mako replied. He watched the officer flip through his book and make a few check marks. "We clear to go?"

"Your quad will be quartered in number twelve belowdecks. You'll go drop off your bags, and I'll send a crewman to show you the boat."

Mako looked to the other three and shrugged, and they shrugged in reply. He turned back to the officer and said, "Okay."

The officer saluted stiffly and stepped aside. As a matter of respect, Mako threw him a lazy salute in reply as he walked past.

"I've never seen a boat this big!" Yaozhu cried as they walked. "How many people do you think can fit on this boat? How much cargo do you think it can carry?"

"I don't know," Mako replied, deadpan.

"I wonder if we'll meet anybody we know. I've never been to the city before. I've never been to _any_ city before. I'm really excited!"

"I can tell."

Yaozhu continued blabbering until Mako opened the door to their quarters, a tiny square room with two sets of bunk beds that seemed just large enough for him to lay flat on his back. The four of them could barely stand inside without stepping on one another.

"I call the top!" Yaozhu cried, and he scrambled up to one of the beds, and Fa crawled into the bed immediately below.

For a second, Mako looked at Jing. He raised his eyebrow and considered the bunks for a moment. No way he was going to sleep on such a rickety bed below such a big guy. If it was to break he'd be crushed. "No offense, buddy, but I'm on top," he said after a moment, and threw his duffel up.

"Yes, sir," Jing replied. He didn't sound offended.

They had barely gotten settled when the promised crewman arrived to give them their tour. He showed them the common bathroom, which made Mako feel a little nauseous, the galley, which made him feel a little more nauseous, and several removable panels and secret cubbies inside which they were to hide in the event they were boarded by the United Forces navy. Mako realized that this was less a cargo ship as a smuggling ship.

Mako counted six separate quads boarding the vessel, but he imagined there would be more. He didn't pay much attention to the people, though. He was too busy staring at the filth. By the time they were finished, he had decided that their bunk was the cleanest room on the ship, and he'd be perfectly happy to spend the trip laying on his cot, small as it may be.

"Meals served at seven, one, and seven," the crewman said when he'd dropped them back off at their room. "We cast off in twenty minutes. You're free to roam, but stay out of our way and don't put your noses where they don't belong."

Another exchange of salutes, and then they were alone.

"I want to go look around!" Yaozhu cried, and both Fa and Jing seemed interested in joining him. "Can we go, Cap?"

"I don't care," Mako replied, "just stay out of trouble."

"Yes, sir!"

"And if you do get into trouble don't come crying to me. I'm your Captain, not your nanny."

"Yes, sir!"

And then Mako was alone.

He climbed to his bed and settled in, hands folded behind his head, and stared at the ceiling not more than two feet above his face. There would be no sitting up here, but it afforded him some privacy, and Mako appreciated that. He closed his eyes and waited for the ship to start lurching.

A great steam whistle blew somewhere above, and Mako knew it was time. He imagined Yaozhu at the railing, waving at whoever was watching them depart, and he shook his head at the thought. Then the room seemed to shake around him, and shortly after began rocking gently back and forth. They were at sea.

The first day passed uneventfully. Jing dealt with a bout of seasickness, and Mako had to listen to him vomiting into a bucket for several nauseating hours that led to three skipped meals. Yaozhu seemed to have occupied himself abovedecks and Mako had seen almost none of him since they'd boarded. Fa slept and snored softly.

Except for Jing's retching, it was quiet, and Mako didn't mind. He lay on his bunk listening to the waves pounding on the hull, the whirring of the propellers, the voices of the crewmen yelling commands at each other. It was strangely relaxing, he thought.

He didn't know what time it was when Yaozhu came bursting into the room, an excited bounce to his step. Mako looked down at him skeptically, but Yaozhu just beamed an enormous smile back at him and squealed, "You've got to come look!"

"At what?" Mako replied.

"Just come look!"

With an enormous sigh and a roll of his eyes, Mako dropped from his bunk and followed Yaozhu outside. He practically sprinted through the halls, much to the dismay of the crewmen he nearly bowled over, and Mako found himself apologizing on his behalf more than he would have liked. But at the same time, he couldn't imagine scolding the kid for his excitement.

It was dark when they emerged on the deck, and Mako stood dumbfounded for a moment, looking up. He'd never been so far from city lights before. He'd never known there were so many stars in the sky.

"Come on!"

Yaozhu grabbed his wrist, and Mako startled back to reality.

"Oh, I hope it's still there!"

They weaved between containers at breakneck pace toward the front of the boat, and eventually came to the railing where Yaozhu pointed exuberantly at the water and cried, "Just watch!"

Mako watched, unsure of what he was looking for.

And then Yaozhu began to jump wildly and point. "Look! Look! There!"

Mako squinted at the water, and a vague orange shape appeared below the surface. He wasn't sure how he could have missed it: The thing was gigantic. It rose and fell beneath the swells, coming in and out of sight as it swam before the bow, but no matter how long Mako stared at it he couldn't figure out exactly what it was. He saw a fin. He saw a black stripe. Otherwise, it was an orange streak in a sea of blue.

"It's a tiger shark!" Yaozhu cried. "It's huge!"

"A... Tiger shark..." Mako stammered. He'd seen one at the Republic City Zoo once before his parents died, but he couldn't remember much except that it had been so tiny that he hadn't really paid attention. He did remember Bolin being impressed in the way that only a four-year-old could be, and the only reason he recalled the matter was because he'd been profoundly annoyed.

Guilt erupted in his breast.

"Yeah! We've got them around my home island but they never get this big! Isn't it cool?"

"Sure."

"You want to sit and watch with me?"

Mako shrugged. "Whatever, kid."

They sat against the railing, their legs hanging over the side of the boat and watched the water pass by for what felt to Mako like hours. He could never decide if he was more impressed looking up at the stars or down at the water, but he knew he found the open air preferable to their stagnant bunk room, and the spray of the water on his face felt oddly refreshing.

The tiger shark eventually disappeared, and afterward it seemed that every time Mako looked away from the water Yaozhu was calling out about some other strange animal. Once he'd pointed to a black blob in the distance and announced it as a _snail_ _turtle_, but Mako had never heard of such a thing before and couldn't see enough detail to know for sure exactly what it was.

"We call them snurtles at home!" Yaozhu said happily.

Again, Mako couldn't bring himself to deny Yaozhu's glee.

The moon was riding high by the time Mako stood, stretched, and yawned. "We better turn in," he said, and then he looked disheartened at the maze of containers between them and the stairs leading back to their quarters. "Get us back to the bunk."

"Yes, sir, Captain, sir!" Yaozhu saluted and practically skipped the whole way back to the room.

Mako didn't sleep well. Between Jing's unpredictable retching, Fa's snoring, and the waves slapping against the hull, it was just too noisy. And after being out in the open, the longer he laid on his bunk the more claustrophobic he felt. Still, he stayed there with his eyes closed and tried to focus on what was to come. He would fulfill his mission in the city. Then he would go see Beifong. Maybe she would take him to see where Bolin had been buried.

Whenever he thought about that, he wanted to cry again.

Mako stayed up so late that he slept through breakfast and lunch the next day, and didn't wake until a crewman came to their door to announce that all captains were to meet in the galley for a briefing on docking procedure and itinerary. He groaned groggily and dropped to the ground, and Yaozhu shouted, "See you later, Cap!" after him as he left.

His earlier assumption had been correct: There were eleven other men in the galley when he found a seat at a table in the back, which meant there were twelve quads aboard the ship, plus crewmen. There was nothing remarkable about any of them, nothing to set them apart as captains in their civilian attire, but Mako noted the same air of discipline and command that he'd felt at his dinner meeting with Guan's council.

"We'll dock at Republic City's south harbor at eight o'clock tomorrow morning," said a man who had appeared at the front of the room. Mako didn't know when he'd come in. He hadn't been paying attention. "Make certain that your quads are ready to depart on the signal. Each of you should have received orders prior to boarding, and it is your responsibility to fulfill your duties in the three days we'll be docked."

Three days, Mako thought. If he was supposed to meet the Triad leaders on the first, that would leave him ample time to take care of his own business. For the first time in a long time, he felt relieved. But the relief didn't last.

"Attacks have been planned in strategic locations around the city and will be staggered for maximum effect. Our docking will be covered by attacks downtown."

Mako's stomach tightened with anxiety.

"The day after tomorrow there will be three more attacks. One of these will take place at one o'clock at the Southern Water Tribe Cultural Center and a second will target several locations in the Little Ba Sing Se borough. The third attack will hit police headquarters between five and six o'clock, depending on police presence."

Mako felt nauseous again, but for entirely different reasons than he'd felt before. Five thirty was shift change at the precinct. There would be twice as many officers in the building as usual, and more besides if they were responding to other attacks. Beifong would probably have every officer and detective in the city on duty.

Suddenly his timeline had shortened.

"As you become available, report to these areas to assist in the liberation of firebenders. Any nonbender witnesses should be destroyed. Earthbenders, waterbenders, and airbenders should be brought back to the ship for processing."

This is human trafficking, Mako thought. They were going to kidnap more people to do slave labor around the island. And people—the fire benders who'd been taken captive and truly fallen for the propaganda—were happy to oblige. Mako wondered what had gone wrong in their minds to make them incapable of seeing the evil they were doing.

"A final attack has been planned at the pro-bending arena at the time of our departure at sundown on the third day. If you're late, you're not coming back."

Mako didn't hear much else from the briefing. He was too busy trying to think of ways to prevent all this violence from happening, but the conflict in his head was making it difficult to come up with a plan.

He had to meet with the Triad leaders, and that meeting had to be successful. The safety of Toru and his quad depended on that much. But at the same time, he'd have to make the meeting short. He'd have to find a way to contact Beifong before the twin attacks took place, and he'd have to do it as quietly as he could. If word got back to his superiors that he'd spilled such sensitive information, he'd be killed without hesitation. He would have to return to Fire Fountain City to report his success and make sure that Guan honored their deal.

It was a tall order, by any measure, and the itinerary the officer had just presented cut a whole day off what little time he thought he'd have.

The meeting adjourned at dinner time, and Mako met Yaozhu, Jing, and Fa at the same table they had occupied the day prior. But Mako had no appetite. He just poked at his food, stared at his plate, and worried.

He didn't sleep again that night, but not because of the noise. The more time passed by the more nervous he was to be back in the city, and every time he thought of being home, the anxiety blossomed. He couldn't go back to Air Temple Island. He had to lay low until he spoke to the Chief. Lives depended on his execution of the plans.

Unable to relax, he dropped quietly from his bunk and made his way abovedecks. He wound about the containers and eventually arrived at the bow of the ship where he'd watched the tiger shark swimming along the night prior. There were no animals tonight, though. Instead he could see on the horizon the faint golden haze of city lights shining like a distant man-made sunrise. It set a pit in his stomach. Each second brought him closer to the city. Each second brought him closer to the greatest moral and ethical dilemma he had ever faced.

He would fulfill his mission and meet with the Triad. And then he would go talk to Beifong about the intelligence he'd gathered over the last weeks. Maybe she would be able to provide him with some guidance. Maybe she would be able to help him figure out what to do.

For a while, Mako sat with his feet overhanging the deck, his arms slung over the lower railing, and watched as the city drew closer. Dread mounted in his stomach. They would sail right past Air Temple Island. They would sail right past the pro-bending arena.

Eventually the deck began to fill with crew and quads waiting to disembark, and Mako stood to make way. He leaned on the railing, and after a time Yaozhu plopped his arms down beside him, and when Mako looked at him his eyes had gone round and his mouth hung open in awe. The sun had begun to peek over the tops of the ruined skyline. Yaozhu whispered a disbelieving "Whoa," and Mako grinned at his innocence.

"Welcome to Republic City," Mako said.

"It's..." Yaozhu seemed unable to form words. "It's... Huge!"

"It's a city," Mako replied coolly. "And it's not in great shape right now. Did you bring my bag?"

"Jing has it," Yaozhu said, his eyes still on the lights. He sounded all dreamy, every bit like the kid he was.

He asked about everything from the gigantic statue of Avatar Aang and Air Temple Island, which Mako explained with some degree of regret, and the arena, which Mako explained with more regret, and the airships he saw, and the patrolling officers in their metal uniforms, and the Satomobiles, which Yaozhu had never seen before.

Mako didn't mention his connections with any of these places or any of the people in them. That would have to come later, if it came at all.

"Go get the other two and bring them here," Mako said as they entered the southern docking channel. "We're going to have to act fast, and I don't want to be looking for you guys when it's time to go."

Yaozhu saluted sloppily and rushed off between the containers, and Mako stood vigil at the bow of the ship. He was close enough to the banks that he could have jumped to them, if he'd wanted to. He could see the features on the faces of the people that rushed by about their early morning business. The city was waking up, he knew. And it would be greeted with something horrible.

Yaozhu returned with Jing and Fa in tow. The four of them waited together, and if Yaozhu remained awestruck and excited, the other two looked terrified. Mako wondered if they worried they'd get lost.

"Don't worry," Mako said out of nowhere, "I know these streets better than anyone on this boat. I guarantee it."

And then there bloomed a distant an explosion. And then another. And then a third.

Mako could see the flashes of fire as they shot into the lightening sky, could see the plumes of smoke that followed them. And like clockwork, the metalbending officers who had been stationed at the docks rushed away, their radios blaring.

There wasn't enough time to feel guilty about the attacks. There was business to tend to.

A few quads jumped into the channel and swam to the southern bank, but Mako knew better than that. The attacks had struck north. If they went the long way to Dragon Flats, they'd easily blend in with the crowd amongst the chaos.

"Follow me, and don't get separated," Mako said in a low voice once the officers had cleared, and then he vaulted the rail and dropped to the ground.

He wasn't sure how the others managed to follow him, especially Fa and Jing considering their lack of athleticism. But they followed nonetheless as Mako darted between the shadows of docked vessels. Behind him, he could hear the calls of policemen who'd returned to the docks. Chaos seemed to have erupted there as well.

Wordlessly, Mako ducked into an alley, where he stopped and looked back. He could see cables flying and men falling. It seemed the metalbenders didn't approve of such a large influx of undocumented people from an unchecked ship.

"Act natural," Mako said to the others. "If people around you look scared, you look scared too. If people around you don't care, then you don't care either. Do you understand me? If you blend in, we won't get caught."

He didn't wait for a response. Instead he set out once more, eastward toward the slums, and toward Dragon Flats.

* * *

By the time they had traversed the southern coast of Republic City's central island, the sun had risen above the buildings, and the chaos of the explosions that had heralded the firebenders' coming had taken full effect. Metalbending officers were everywhere, just as Mako had suspected they might be, and to be safe he led the others south of Cabbage Corp to the bridge connecting the central island to the south.

As they crossed the bridge, Mako looked over the bay to the Future Industries compound, its few intact buildings all lit up, and another pang of regret hit him in his middle. If he had more guts, he'd abandon the lot of them and rush off to seek help from Asami. He missed her. But there were people counting on him to succeed in the mission. Yaozhu and Jing and Fa would be punished if Mako abandoned them. He knew that much. And Toru would be subjected to a lifetime of abuse and neglect from a man who probably never loved her.

He wouldn't stand for that.

It was near noon by the time they reached the specified address in Dragon Flats. The borough itself was just as run down and seedy as Mako remembered it being, if more populous. There were hundreds of people in the streets, and Mako didn't know if it was a result of the explosion-people in this neighborhood loved to take advantage of chaotic events-or if the place had simply changed over time. The buildings had certainly taken damage from Kuvira's recent attack, and given the status of this section of town, he wasn't surprised that repairs hadn't yet been started.

The inn at which they were to stay was no exception to the rule. Its sign hung by one string above the door and swayed eerily in the breeze, and its shutters hung loose but notably closed. In the spaces between, Mako could barely see the flickering of lights whose fixtures must have been neglected or built poorly to begin with. It was a slummy place, but Dragon Flats was the slum of Republic City, and it happened to be the slum where Mako had grown up.

"You're late," said an old, rasp voiced woman when Mako led his quad inside. For a moment, he hadn't known from where the voice had come-the place was completely empty-but as he scanned the room he saw her seated at a table in the back.

"Long night," Mako replied. He approached the woman cautiously: Anyone in this part of town could be dangerous, even children and the elderly. He knew that first hand. "We need a room. We have reservations."

"What number?" the woman replied coolly.

"Four zero five," Mako said automatically. He hadn't really known the proper response to this question. He assumed that whoever oversaw the establishment would know they were coming and would be expecting them. Every time someone asked him for a number, it seemed that the one he'd been assigned by the society was the proper response.

The old woman eyed Mako thoughtfully before rising, and as she crossed the room to a dusty wooden counter she said, "You're young for a fourth division."

Mako imagined he'd be hearing that a lot.

"Two rooms on the upper floor," the woman said as she came back. She brandished two rusted old keys at Mako, and as he took them he wondered exactly how many grubby hands had been on them. "Number five and six. Two beds in each. Stairs in the back."

Mako nodded. "Thank you," he said.

And the old lady eyed him again. This time she looked skeptical. "You're polite for a fourth division, too," she said, and all Mako could do was give her a very awkward half smile before excusing himself and his men. As they made their way toward the stairs, the old lady yelled after them, "Don't bring any trouble here!"

Mako hoped he wouldn't.

"Yaozhu, you're with me," Mako commanded as he ascended. "You two can take the other room. And seriously, don't get into any trouble. You're better off spending the day resting. We'll probably have a long night."

"Yes, sir," they echoed in response.

Mako tossed the second key to Jing, who fumbled it clumsily before finally catching it, and with a shake of his head he opened his own door.

As he expected, it was just as grimy as the rest of the building, but it had two beds and a radio and that was all he could really ask for. He supposed any other business could be taken care of at the tables down below.

"What do we do now, Cap?" Yaozhu asked as he flopped on the bed nearest the door. "Can we go look around?"

"No," Mako replied curtly. It had been fine for them to explore the boat: That was a safe place. But now they were in hostile territory and separating any more than they had to would certainly be a poor tactical decision. "We're going to stay here until we meet the Triads. You'd best get some sleep while you can."

Yaozhu groaned his disapproval as only a teenage boy could. "But I've never been in the city before! I want to see what it's like!"

"You'll see plenty tonight," Mako said. "Besides, there's been an attack on Republic City's soil. Police will be everywhere-they're _already_ everywhere. You saw them on the walk over here. If they peg you as a combustion bender it's off to jail with you, I guarantee it."

"How are they going to peg me as a combustion bender?"

Mako shrugged. It was pretty likely they wouldn't, considering Yaozhu's lack of distinctive markings. "We don't want to take any chances. We lay low until we have to go out."

Another groan, but Yaozhu didn't argue. Instead he dropped back onto the disgusting yellowed pillow and stared at the ceiling, his hands folded behind his head.

Mako crossed the room and turned on the radio. No doubt there'd be news coverage of the attacks. Morbid as it was, he wanted to know what had happened. He wanted all the information he could get: What places had been targeted? How many people had been injured or killed? What were the nature of the attacks? Mako could guess the answers: highly populated areas, a lot of people injured or killed, and explosions.

Yaozhu was asleep within ten minutes, radio or not, and Mako laid down on his own bed and listened for a long time. It was exactly as he'd predicted. Explosions had ripped through the Northern Water Tribe Library on the middle island, the Fire Nation Officer Candidate School in the south, and the trolley station in the north. Hundreds were injured. Dozens had gone missing, and the radio reports suggested that the power of the blasts had obliterated the bodies entirely.

Mako knew better. But there was nothing he could do. He'd lost this one.

Eventually he grew tired of the repetitive reporting and flipped the radio off. For a while he lay there thinking about how close to home he was, and how far away from home he was, and how if he could get ahold of a telephone he could call Asami or Korra or Tenzin or Lin or someone who could bail him out. But then he heard Yaozhu's gentle snoring and shook his head at himself. He couldn't abandon them. He could suffer a while longer if it meant that the people he'd come to care for stayed safe.

Mako fell asleep and dreamed again of his time on the streets. He dreamed of the night they'd saved Pabu from the pythonaconda, and again the scenarios played out the same way. Bolin was getting into trouble. Mako followed him. Bolin broke into the store. Mako followed him. Bolin almost died.

How many times in their young lives had Mako saved him only to have him gone in the end, anyway?

The thought startled him to waking. It was dark, and Yaozhu was sitting on the bed happily tinkering with the radio, flipping between the evening news reports, pro-bending coverage, and at least three different music stations. He'd kept the volume low, and Mako appreciated his attempts at courtesy, but when Yaozhu noticed him awake he perked up and beamed.

"I've never gotten to play with a radio before! My parents always told me to keep my hands off the ones in our village."

"It's not a toy," Mako replied, deadpan.

"Listen!" Yaozhu cranked the volume on a jazzy station, and the louder the music got the wider his smile became. But when Mako didn't smile back, he lowered the volume and his smile diminished slightly. He looked back at the radio in amazement. "I wonder how it works."

Jinora could've explained it, Mako thought. Ikki could've probably explained it too, at this point. But they weren't here, and Mako didn't feel like discussing the minutia of sound waves and frequencies. He simply lay and listened to Yaozhu flipping the stations while occasionally giggling and gasping when he hit white noise.

Mako sighed. "Look, kid," he said tentatively, and Yaozhu looked at him with wide eyes, "I've got something important I need to talk to you about."

Yaozhu's eyes went wider and he killed the radio. He looked like he was terrified, like a little kid who'd been caught in a place he didn't belong. "Yes, sir?"

"You and I are going to go on a little field trip tonight," he said. "After we're through with the Triads."

"What do you mean?" Yaozhu had perked back up at the mention of a field trip. Mako knew that all the kid wanted to do was explore. "Where are we going to go?"

"Before I tell you this, I need to know that you're going to keep quiet, no matter what," Mako said. "If you're going to be my number two, I've got to know you're going to stay loyal to me as your Captain."

Now Yaozhu's eyes had widened as a result of excitement. "Your number two, sir?"

"Yeah," Mako said, "my right-hand man. It's you. Now, can I count on you?"

"Yes, sir!" Yaozhu cried, and he saluted stiffly. "Anything, sir!"

"We're going to go visit a friend of mine," Mako said. "We need to let her know that I'm safe. I just want to check in a little bit and make sure that everyone I care about here is okay. You can understand that, can't you?"

Yaozhu looked skeptical. "What do you mean?"

"I have family here," Mako said plainly. And then he thought again of Bolin, and his throat clamped up. After a second, he said, "I want to make sure that they're safe. I want to make sure they aren't caught up in any of the planned attacks. I'm sure you'd do the same for your family if we were attacking your island."

For a while, Yaozhu just stared, his head tilted slightly to the side. But then he nodded resolutely. "Yes, sir," he said. "Anything you ask, Cap."

"Good. You can't tell the other two what we're doing. Don't even _think_ about it while we're on the job. This is a personal issue, and it needs to stay that way. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, let's go get some dinner before we head out."

They stopped for Jing and Fa, who both were still sleeping, and Yaozhu beat them all down the stairs. The old lady was there again, and when Mako inquired about food, she laughed derisively at him. With a shrug to the others, Mako exited the building and sighed.

"Looks like we're going to have to rustle something up ourselves," he said thoughtfully. "I know there's a hot pot shop around here that's pretty cheap and not complete garbage."

"We don't have any money, sir," said Jing. He always had been the pragmatist.

"Then we'll have to lift some," Mako said, and he turned about to face them squarely. "And you're going to leave that to me. No funny business from any of you. You follow orders. Now, let's go. Stay close."

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

And Mako set off.

It had been years since he'd had to steal money, and as he searched the evening crowd for a suitable target, Mako began feeling a little nervous. If he got caught when he was a kid he could just play the innocent street rat card, and most people forgave him if he returned the goods. But now he was an adult, and he imagined that people would be far less lenient.

But then he spotted his target and the nervousness left: A crowd of people had gathered on the corner two blocks down.

"Yaozhu, get up here," he said, and then Yaozhu was at his side. "You see those people up there?"

Yaozhu nodded.

"They're probably watching some kind of street performance. People do that kind of stuff all the time around here. When we get up there, I want you to run through them to the front of the crowd, and bump into as many people as you can while you're going. Now, you might get stopped on the way out, but I'll get your back. You just have to play along."

It was the same as he and Bolin had done, once upon a time.

"Yes, sir!"

"You two," Mako said, and he turned around. "Keep walking. We'll meet you three blocks straight down the way. The hot pot place is at the corner of Twelfth and Main."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's do this," Mako said, and again he set off.

As they approached the crowd, Mako held his arm out to slow Yaozhu's pace, and let Jing and Fa stride on past. And once they were safely away from the area, Mako nodded at the people and said, "Make sure I can keep up with you. Don't go too crazy."

He'd never had to explain this so thoroughly to Bolin.

Yaozhu approached the back of the crowd and then gave an enormous and genuine "Oooh!" as soon as Mako had caught up, and then he set off at a slow but determined pace, bumping and pushing against people and occasionally uttering an excited, "Sorry!" as he did. And Mako followed behind, the same as he'd done with Bolin in their youth, and when Yaozhu bumped a suitable target, Mako would reach out and snatch their wallets.

It was a little scary how fast it all came back.

It took less than a minute for Yaozhu to reach the front of the crowd, and Mako held back as he broke through. Then he began calling angrily, "Yaozhu! Get back here!" and pushing his own way toward the front. "You stupid kid, get back here!"

People eyed him angrily as he shoved past, but Mako kept on. He had to be convincing. Then he reached the front of the crowd and grabbed Yaozhu by the arm a bit too roughly.

"Hey!" Yaozhu cried, genuinely surprised.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mako yelled. "You can't just run off like that! You'll get kidnapped, and then what am I going to tell mom?"

"I..." Yaozhu looked confused now, but when Mako raised his eyebrows he seemed to catch on. "I'm sorry! I was just curious and wanted-"

"Hey! That kid stole my wallet!"

Mako rounded, a bit startled, and watched as a fat old man pushed his way forward. Mako had indeed lifted that man's money, but his eyes were on Yaozhu alone.

"Turn out your pockets, kid!" the old man yelled. He had gone red-faced in his rage. "Turn them out right now! If you've got my money there I'm going to take you straight to the police!"

Yaozhu looked very afraid, and just stared at the man. "But..."

"Turn them out," Mako said calmly, and then he turned to the old man and offered the most disarming smile he could. "You'll have to excuse him, sir. He's stupid, even for a kid brother. I'm sure you understand." Then he looked back to Yaozhu and said once more, "Do what the guy says so we can get out of here."

Yaozhu turned out his predictably empty pockets, and the man seemed equal parts placated and even more angry. He rounded back on the crowd, searching for the next person to accuse, and as he did, Mako pushed Yaozhu roughly along by the shoulder, scolding him the whole way out.

When they had cleared the crowd, Mako turned them down a side street and bolted. Yaozhu followed. They ran for two blocks before slowing again, and then Mako turned them onto a thoroughfare and began walking casually again.

"What now?" Yaozhu cried, excited and breathless. "What do we do now?"

"We go get dinner," Mako said. He reached into his own pockets. He'd grabbed four wallets in total, and he compiled the money from them, tossed them aside, and began to count. And as he counted, he couldn't help an enormous and very genuine smile. "Two hundred and thirty-three yuans. That's a nice haul."

"Wow!" Yaozhu cried. "That much? How'd you know how to do that?"

"I've been around," Mako said flatly. "Now let's hustle. The other two are waiting."

The hot pot was the best meal Mako had eaten in a while. It was familiar and comfortable and not half as spicy as the food he'd endured at the compound. And it seemed that the others enjoyed it as well. They ate their fill to the tune of fifty-five yuans, and they left satisfied and anxious.

It was time for the Triads.

"We're supposed to meet them at a place called _Mr. Kong's_," Mako explained as they walked. "It's a Triad hangout that fronts as a dim sum place and bar. Well, that's what I was told anyway. And it's only a couple blocks from here. Not sure how it's going to go when we're inside, but it'd be good for all of you to be on the alert."

"Yes, sir."

Mako wasn't sure that he appreciated all the formality.

Mr. Kong's Dim Sum Restaurant appeared to be the most well-kept property occupying the block on which it was located. It was brightly illuminated with colored lights and the lettering on its sign was large and neatly composed. Mako would have expected nothing less for a Triad front. They had to appear a legitimate business to keep the police away from them, and there was no better way to attract unwanted attention than running a dirty, bug-infested restaurant.

Several tables were occupied, and the patrons appeared of all economic backgrounds. While there didn't appear to be any vagrants about the room, there were some in tattered clothes and worn down shoes. But most seemed as middle class folks come to a fancy restaurant for their dinner and drinks.

They didn't stand for long before a nicely dressed young woman approached and said, "Table for how many?"

"I've got a ten-o'clock appointment," Mako replied matter-of-factly. No sense covering it up. This lady knew where she worked.

She gave them a skeptical look, and Mako knew at once that she must be thinking that he was young for a diplomat, and he sighed. But then her expression softened and she nodded her head. "One only, please. I'll have a table for three arranged while you wait."

Mako looked to the others, shrugged, and followed the girl toward the back of the room. It was fishy, yes, but Mako had no choice but to play along. Such was the way of the Triad, he knew, to use intimidation tactics to read the strength of a potential business partner. Mako had seen it a thousand times in his youth. If he kept his chin up and maintained a front of unflappable confidence, he'd be in.

She led him through a hallway past the bathrooms and entered a door marked for employees only. Down a flight of stairs and another long hall they came across a metal door with an outside lock. The girl opened the door and motioned Mako inside.

"Someone will be with you shortly. Please make yourself comfortable."

_Yeah_, Mako thought as she closed the door, _I'll be real comfy in here_.

The room was paneled with matte metal plates and remained completely unfurnished except for a single small wooden table with two chairs, upon which there sat a pitcher and two short, wide glasses. Mako took a seat and waited.

It took ten minutes for someone to enter the room, minutes that Mako knew were spent watching the way he carried himself through some peephole or viewport. He stood when the door opened, and turned to face whoever it was that had come in.

A tall, thin man of about fifty proceeded toward him, and simply by the way he carried himself Mako knew that this was the man with whom he was supposed to be meeting. He was dressed professionally, but not ostentatiously, and in the world beyond this room Mako imagined that no one would think twice about seeing him at a place like Kuang's Cuisine. This man was high class. This man was important.

"You're younger than I figured," said the man, and it took all Mako's effort to keep his face neutral. Instead, he bowed formally, and when he rose again the man was staring at him with hard eyes. "Why'd they send you?"

Unabashed, Mako said, "I'm here to establish a relationship."

The man cocked his head to the side, and after a few tense moments, maneuvered around the table to sit. After he'd taken his seat, Mako sat as well, and the man poured a glass for himself and a glass for Mako. And then they sat motionless, staring at each other.

Again, Mako was surprised at how quickly the memories came back. He'd seen this before, too, the way the bosses figured out if someone was _in_ or not. And if you weren't in, it served as a test of worthiness. Those who offered deference to the boss were allowed their due time. Those who took the initiative were denied.

It took a long time before the man picked up his drink, and Mako followed suit without hesitation. He didn't even know what was in the cup. But when they had both replaced their glasses on the table, the old man smiled at him and said, "You represent this Guan bozo."

"I do."

"Your people made a mess this morning. Got the whole place up in a tizzy. What's your name, kid?"

For a fraction of a second, Mako hesitated. It was entirely possible that someone would recognize him, if not by face then by name, especially among the Triads. Certainly, he and Bolin had been out of the game for a long time, but even through their time with Korra, underlings would occasionally proposition them with odd jobs. Mako didn't want to blow his cover. He didn't want his name floating around.

"Yaozhu," Mako said. He didn't regret it, either. The kid wasn't known anywhere. His name would carry no significance.

"Welcome to Republic City, Yaozhu," said the man. "Footmen call me Shirshu."

Again, Mako worked to keep his face straight. What a dumb name for a Triad boss. He probably picked it because he thought he was _poisonous_ or something. Instead, he said, "It's an honor to meet you."

He just had to grovel a little bit.

"Well, let's cut the crap and get down to brass tacks, yeah, kid? What's your guy want."

"He wants all of the Triads to serve as his eyes and ears in Republic City."

"Recon work, then."

"That's my understanding, sir."

"And all of us, eh? What's he got in exchange? What's his payment? Job like that comes at a hefty price. It's trouble trying to get all us hoodlums working together."

Mako didn't know. But he didn't have time to think, either, so he blurted, "Immunity," before his brain had caught up with his mouth. "Blanket immunity."

Shirshu dropped his chin on his hand, one eyebrow raised, and he remained silent for an uncomfortable time. Mako knew better than to say anything before he was spoken to. Besides, he had to come up with a reasonable explanation.

"Go on," Shirshu said at last.

"The same thing that happened in the upper ring of Ba Sing Se is going to happen in Republic City," Mako explained. "We were responsible for that, I'm sure you know. You've seen the papers. And when we attack here more people are going to die, and more people are going to be taken. That's the way we work. In exchange for your feet on the ground and a reliable source of intel, we'll make certain that your men are well informed about the attacks, and we'll keep our dirt out of your turf."

This seemed to set Shirshu back quite literally. He rocked back in his chair, put it up on two feet, and crossed his arms behind his head. He looked disbelieving. "That's a bold statement, kid."

"It's a true statement," Mako replied. He tried to give his voice a steely edge, and it seemed to have worked.

"How I know you're good for it?" Shirshu asked, giving the slightest upward tip of his chin. "For the payment? I got no dealings with you people so far, I don't know you're good for it."

"You agree to the terms set forth by His Excellency and I'll give you information about our next attacks. Then you can make sure your men are out of harm's way. You've seen what we can do so far, and I promise we can do much worse. It's in your interest to cooperate."

"Sounds to me like we got a threat on our hands."

"Not a threat," Mako explained gently. "It's just not a guarantee of safety. If you agree to the terms, we'll make sure your guys don't get caught up. If you don't agree, well," he paused, and he shrugged as if that would explain.

Shirshu leaned forward again, his elbows on the table, and stared very hard at Mako. "You really got a pair, kid," he said after a time, "to come in here and hard ball me like this. I'll agree, I got no reason not to. Seems we can only profit off the deal. But I got one more catch."

Mako kept a straight face, though a shot of excitement had gone through him. He didn't speak. He didn't want his elation to come through. He had to keep things on the level.

"You got to tell me your real name." Shirshu paused, and the look on Mako's face must have given him away. "You surprised? I wasn't born yesterday. Name you gave me is pretty rare around these parts. Seems to me it's more popular on the tiny islands around the Fire Nation."

"Maybe I'm just unique," Mako bluffed.

Shirshu leveled a dangerous glare on Mako then, and when he spoke again his voice had gone low and icy. "I'm not stupid," he said, and the facade of tough Triad boss melted into the straightforward visage of a murderer. "You gave me a name unique to a few tribes of combustion benders in the southwest Silver Sea, and you ain't no combustion bender. What are you, kid, twenty-five? Pushing thirty? At your age, you oughta have at least a little something up here," he tapped his own forehead. "And you got nothing. So, what's your name?"

"Mako."

"Thought you was," Shirshu said. "I seen your face before in the papers. Big pro-bender. Why lie?"

"Protection," Mako said honestly. "I need to keep quiet. There are a lot of people around the city that would jump at the chance to get at me."

Shirshu nodded, an understanding look about him now. "I ain't putting my nose in your business. I want to know how you knew our protocol, though, a big shot rich guy like you."

Mako scoffed. "Rich? I used to buzz around with the Triple Threats. Learned lightning bending from Lightning Bolt Zolt, if you're looking for dates."

"Long time ago. Why'd you bail?"

"Had to take care of my kid brother."

"How noble." Shirshu stood and cast the dangerous glare on Mako again. "You got grit. I like that. Ain't often we get that in a kid your age. You can tell your guy we got a deal, but if any of our guys get caught up in your business, we got a problem. Have him send a wire with contacts. Now, what're these plans you was talking about?"

Mako recounted the locations and times of the attacks that he'd heard while aboard the ship with as much detail as he could, and it seemed that Shirshu was satisfied.

"You make sure I see that wire," he said as he approached the door. And then Mako was alone again.

All Mako wanted to do when the door closed was to breathe a sigh of relief, but something felt _off_. A heaviness surrounded him, a sense of foreboding that told him that something was up. He sat and he listened.

There were footsteps outside the door. Multiple sets of them.

Mako hopped to his feet and rounded on the door. Shirshu must not have liked his _grit_ that much. No doubt he'd sent a few lackeys to put Mako in his place and teach him some respect. Such a thing wasn't unheard of after a conversation like what he'd just had. But Mako already knew respect, and he wasn't about to be caught off guard.

As the door opened, he jumped onto the chair and prepared himself for the attack. It seemed a stupid move to send a bunch of guys at him in a metal room.

They came in swinging, two waterbenders and a firebender, and Mako ducked beneath their initial attacks. He had to act fast. He had to keep calm. There was no getting out of here without staying calm. He wound up, drew a quick, deep breath, and pulled his hands inward. He centered himself, steadied himself, and threw his arms out wide, thrusting one hand directly toward his assailants.

The lightning intercepted the next water whip, and the waterbender who'd thrown it fell in a convulsive heap. The other two hesitated, and by the time they'd turned back around Mako had unleashed another arcing bolt, striking the floor not two feet in front of them, and as it connected it split, dropping them both like stones.

For a moment, Mako stood there and stared, dumbfounded by the strength of his bending. His lightning had never been _that_ potent before.

Breathless, Mako jumped from the chair and darted through the open door. Shirshu wouldn't be happy when he found out his guys had been taken out, but that's what they got for picking on someone they couldn't take. Hopefully he'd see that, and instead of sending more men after him he'd accept he'd been bested and move on.

Mako rushed up the stairs, down the hallway, and into the almost wholly empty dining room, where he slowed to a brisk walk. He didn't want to draw attention. Nobody knew what he'd done. Nobody seemed to have been alerted to the issue, at least not yet.

A quick glance around the room and Mako spotted the others seated at a corner table. He rushed toward them, grabbed Jing by the arm and said, "We've got to get out of here. _Now_."

No sooner had Mako said the words than the room came alive. There wasn't enough time for him to register the change. Fire began flying in great rolling waves, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to jolt and drop.

Someone had noticed.

"Go!" Mako shouted, and he pushed Jing toward the door. "Get out of here!"

As Jing and Fa rushed toward the door, Mako rounded on the crowd that had formed behind. He unleashed more lightning toward the waterbenders, dropping them in single powerful shots. A fireball came at him from the side, and as Mako turned to redirect it, he noticed Yaozhu close at his side.

It was only now that Mako realized he'd never actually seen Yaozhu bend before, not seriously. The boy whirled about and grasped the encroaching flames, and as he turned he forced them sideways toward the crowd. As the fire spread and the benders dodged, his face scrunched up weirdly. Mako barely had time to shield himself before the explosion bloomed, and without stopping to recover from the shock he was running again. He had no choice. Yaozhu dragged him by the wrist toward the door.

Mako had never sprinted so fast in his life as he did then, and never in such a strange path. Yaozhu had let go his arm as soon as they'd cleared the door to unleash another combustion bolt into the building, and Mako directed them down blocks and into alleyways and over fences and between shadows. He could hear the angry shouts of the Triad footmen behind him, but the longer they ran the fainter they became.

At last, Mako and Yaozhu found a main street, and they disappeared among the late-night crowd.

"Wow, Cap," Yaozhu said between pants after a long time walking in quiet, "that was pretty serious."

All Mako could do was shake his head. He wondered where the other two had gone. They'd bolted quick. They had to be safe. If they were remotely smart they'd have gone back to the inn.

"We should go back to our rooms," Yaozhu said. He sounded a little afraid, but his breaths had started coming slower. "Sir? Shouldn't we go back?"

"No," Mako replied when his nerves had calmed. "Remember, we've got more business on the other side of town."

"Oh. That's right."

"We need a cab," Mako said.

"How do we get one?"

Mako stepped to the curb and craned his neck into the street. There weren't many cars, but the stream was steady, and within five minutes he managed to hail a taxi.

"Where to, kids?" said the driver.

"Downtown," Mako said. He reached into his pocket, drew out the remaining money, and then threw a hundred yuans into the front. "Get us there quick."

"Yes, sir!" The cabbie cried. And then they were off.

Mako dropped his head back against the seat, exhausted, and stared through the open roof to the sky. He couldn't see the stars anymore. At the same time his stomach was flooded with adrenaline, he felt a sense of intense relief. He was out of danger. He was on the way to Beifong. Everything would be okay.

He just hoped the other two were safe. He hoped they had gone back to their rooms.

When Yaozhu began gasping and pointing, Mako joined him in peering at the city. It seemed like every time they passed a building more than three stories tall, Yaozhu would motion excitedly toward it. Twice he grabbed Mako's arm to draw his attention to what he must have considered to be particularly interesting buildings that more often than not turned out to be apartments. And he kept pointing out the still present piles of rubble leftover from Kuvira's attacks and asking what in the world had happened. But Mako didn't answer.

"This is close enough," Mako said after a time.

"You sure, kid?"

"I'm sure," Mako said, and when the cabbie gave him an odd, suspicious look, he threw another twenty yuans at him. "Thanks for the lift."

"Don't mention it."

Then they were on the street again, and the cab faded into the distance.

"Why'd you have him drop us off here? Where are we going?" Yaozhu asked. "We've been walking forever already!"

Instead of answering immediately, Mako set off at a brisk pace. He needed to think of a plan. He couldn't just waltz into headquarters: He'd be recognized, he'd cause a panic. Most of the cops there probably thought he was dead. And he needed an out, besides. He'd already made up his mind that he had to return to Fire Fountain City, and if the building was swarming with cops, he'd never get to leave.

"We need a diversion," Mako said at last. "And you're going to do it."

"Yes, sir," Yaozhu said automatically, and then he went all confused. "But what am I going to do?"

"How far out can you combust?"

Yaozhu shrugged. "I don't know. Hundred yards or so. Maybe. I've never really tried for dista-"

"Good enough," Mako interrupted. "The buildings around here have fire escapes outside. You're going to get on top of a building and lob a few bolts at the door. And when the cops come running, you're going to lead them away from the building, all from your safe spot up high."

When Mako looked to Yaozhu, the kid seemed terrified.

"They're going to find me!"

"No, they won't," Mako said, and he felt confident. "Not many of the guys on the force have dealt with combustion before. I don't think you get how rare it is in the city. They won't know how to track you if you're not too predictable. You think you can handle it?"

"Yes, sir," Yaozhu said, but the excitement seemed to have gone out of him. "I'll do my best, sir."

"Good. Now, make sure you don't _hurt_ anyone, yeah? Be careful. These people are innocent, they don't need to be injured."

"Yes, sir."

They continued the walk in silence until they could proceed no further. The closer they got to headquarters the more police they saw, and Mako didn't want to risk being spotted. Again, he ducked into an alley and peeked around the corners.

"Okay," he said. "We're about two blocks out. You're going to keep walking, and act natural, yeah? Come here." He pointed down the road. "You see that building? The big gray one, looks like it's got wings on top?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's the place I need you to hit. If you keep to the alleys and head that direction you should be able to get on top of one of the apartment complexes. I can't make my move until you give me the signal."

"What's the signal, Cap?"

Mako heaved an enormous, exasperated sigh. Talented as he might be, Yaozhu certainly had a dull streak. "The explosion, Yaozhu. I can't move till you've distracted them."

"Oh. All right."

"Move quick. I'll be waiting. If you get spooked, you can meet me back here. Can you handle that? Keep to the alleys. Keep to the shadows. If you need, you should be able to duck into one of the apartment buildings. If you act natural, nobody will care where you are or what you're doing. Just don't look like a criminal."

"Yes, sir."

With another stiff, slightly awkward salute, Yaozhu set off, and Mako watched him disappear among the buildings.

And then he watched. And he waited. And he watched, and waited and watched and waited, and a bubble of anxiety swelled inside of him. It had been too long, he thought. Had the Triads followed them? No, there was no way they could've tracked them this far. The city was too big. Or had Yaozhu been caught by the police? They were crawling all over. Maybe things had changed since he was on the streets. Maybe the police actually cared about vagrant kids now.

But then he saw it. An enormous ball of fire split the road right outside headquarters, and just as Mako predicted, the cops went running. They poured out of the building, they swarmed from the street corners, and as more explosions bloomed they struck off in pursuit.

With a shake of his head, Mako ran. For the first time, he was glad for all the physical training he'd endured after his capture. He'd never have been able to do so much running on so little sleep before all of this.

Another explosion bloomed in the distance.

Mako sneaked inside, and just as he'd predicted, the lobby sat empty. Every desk had been abandoned, though he could hear the noise of telephones ringing upstairs. The dispatchers must have stayed, must have been absolutely inundated with calls. Between the attacks that morning and Yaozhu now, the city had had a very bad day.

He approached Beifong's office with a surprising degree of terror, but when he pushed the door open and saw her frantically rummaging through her things, her hand on the phone, relief flooded through him so powerfully that he thought he'd cry.

"Hey, Chief."

She stopped dead. And then she looked at him with a face he'd never seen before. She'd gone white, her eyes wide, her jaw slack. It was like she'd seen a ghost. When Mako stepped inside and closed the door behind him, she was still staring.

It looked to Mako like she was struggling to form a word. He found it sort of amusing, how off guard he'd caught her. But then he felt a little guilty, too. Of course, she wouldn't be expecting him. A dozen explosions had struck right outside her door not five minutes prior. She was probably getting ready to head into the fray herself.

"Sit down," Mako said, a touch of concern in his voice. "You look like you're about to pass out."

She sat heavily. And she kept staring. And then in a very small, slightly weak voice she said, "Where in the world have you been?"

"It's a long story," Mako said, and he crossed the room to peek out her window toward the street. "And we don't have a lot of time."

"What do you mean we don't have time?"

She seemed to have recovered quickly enough, judging by the strengthening tone in her voice, but when Mako looked back to her she remained seated.

He leaned his back against the window and crossed his arms over his chest. "We don't have time," he said. "As plain as that. I've got intel for you, and then I've got to get out of here again."

"What?"

Mako's brow furrowed. "Chief, snap out of it. This is important."

She stood, and Mako knew that he had her attention.

"There was an attack on the city early this morning," Mako began, and when Lin opened her mouth to say something he held up his hand for silence. "I know that because those explosions were the distraction for my boat to dock here." He paused and looked at the floor. "And by _my boat_, I mean the boat that brought me here. And that's not going to be the end of it."

"Clearly!" Beifong shouted. "What just happened outside my-"

"That was my cover," Mako explained. "I couldn't just waltz in here with the building full of cops."

He'd dumbfounded her again.

"Look, Chief, you've got a big problem on your hands that has nothing to do with the last ten minutes, okay? Tomorrow, all day tomorrow, there are going to be attacks on the city. They're targeting the Cultural Center and Little Ba Sing Se. And then they're going to-"

"Who is _they_?" Beifong stammered.

"The Society," Mako replied.

"How do you know that?"

The office door flew open before Mako could respond, and Yaozhu practically fell into the room. He looked like he'd just finished running a marathon, and bent low with his hands on his knees, panting like a dog.

"What are you doing here?" Mako shouted. "You didn't bring them back with you, did you?"

"No, sir," Yaozhu gasped. "No, they didn't follow, but I got scared."

"No, sir?" Beifong echoed, and she looked to Mako with a disgusted look. "What... _What_?"

"Chief, this is Yaozhu," Mako said by way of introduction. "He's my second in command."

"Second... In... Command..."

"Yeah."

Yaozhu stood straight and beamed, and then his face went blank. "Wait a minute, Cap. Is she an earthbender?"

"Yes."

Yaozhu jumped, startled. "B-b-but, sir!" he stammered. "Earthbenders are dangerous!"

"No, they're not," Mako said, exasperated.

Beifong sat down again, and resumed looking stupefied as she stared between Mako and Yaozhu. Her eyes lingered for a long time on the kid's face, and it looked to Mako as though she had recognized something about him.

"Okay," Mako said, "let me start over. And I don't want either of you to interrupt me. We don't have enough time for that. Now listen to me very carefully. There are attacks planned for tomorrow starting at something like one o'clock. There'll be one at the Cultural Center and a few in Little Ba Sing Se. I don't know exactly where. And then at evening shift change they're going to target headquarters. There'll be explosions, bigger than the ones Yaozhu can make by a long shot, and people are going to get hurt and people are going to be taken."

"What do you mean, _taken_?" Beifong asked, but she stopped short when Mako glared at her.

"You have to make sure that those places are evacuated as thoroughly as possible. They'll be targeting firebenders, but they'll take any bender they can get their hands on. They bring them back to the island to work as slaves. Look, I know this is crazy, but you've got to take me at face value here, okay, Chief? They're going to kidnap the benders and kill anyone else who sees them."

"I still can't believe you're standing in front of me right now," she said. "Two hours ago, you were dead, and now you're standing in front of me telling me my city is under attack."

"I know," Mako said. "But you've got to listen, and you've got to believe what I'm saying here, okay? There are those attacks planned for tomorrow, but those aren't the only ones. Our ship is docked at the south harbor, and we're going to set out again in a couple days. Like, three days? Two days?"

"Two days, sir," Yaozhu said. "We set out at sundown the day after tomorrow."

"Two days," Mako echoed. "And when we leave, they're going to target the pro-bending arena to cover our tracks. That'll be on a Friday, right around game time."

"Stop for a minute," Beifong said. "Why is he calling you _sir_?"

"Because I'm his Captain," Mako said plainly. He didn't have time for this kind of nonsense. "That doesn't matter. We're leaving the south harbor in two days, and there's going to be another attack to draw attention away from the docks. They're going to hit the arena. Now, I know this is going to be hard, but you _can't_ stop the ship. We _have_ to go back."

"What?"

Mako drew a deep breath. "There are people I have to take care of," he said slowly. "Back on the island. There are people relying on me to save them. And if I don't get back, they'll be in more trouble than you could possibly believe. You have to keep your officers away from the south docks so we can get out of here safely."

Beifong's face had screwed up in disbelief.

"Can you take care of evacuations, Chief?" Mako asked. He had to get this through to her. He had to get her to acknowledge the importance of what was happening.

She nodded.

"Good. You should also know that the Triads are involved now. Well, they're _kind of _involved. They're doing recon."

"How could you possibly know that?" Beifong asked, incredulous.

"Because I just got done negotiating the agreement with them."

The disbelieving face again. "Whose side are you on?"

Mako shook his head. He didn't know what to say. He'd thought on that question so much in the last few weeks that he couldn't keep it straight himself. He cared deeply for Republic City, but he cared for his quad. He cared for Toru. He cared about helping the people who had been taken, who were trying to make the best of a terrible situation the same was as he had done. All he could say was, "I don't even know any more."

Then there was silence.

"Cap, we need to go," Yaozhu said. "We need to make sure that Jing and Fa got out okay."

Mako looked to him and nodded. Then he looked back to Beifong and took an extremely deep breath. There was one more point of business to attend to before he left. "How are Korra and Asami?"

"They left early this morning to go investigate the Boiling Rock."

Mako balked. "You got my note?"

"Yeah, we got it. Too late to do any good, though."

The pit of grief opened up again, and Mako stared at the floor. He couldn't bring himself to look at her now. He felt ashamed. He should've done more. He wanted to cry. But it was too late now. Bolin was gone.

"Where is he?" Mako asked, a waver in his voice.

"Where is who?"

"Bolin. Where is he?"

"Suyin took him to Zaofu."

Mako nodded. It made sense. Bolin was more a part of the Beifong family than any in Republic City, even counting their cousins and grandmother. It made perfect sense to bury him at their home. But at the same time, he felt sad again. He felt disappointed. He'd desperately wanted to visit the grave. He wanted to pay his respects.

He wanted to apologize.

"Mako!" Yaozhu cried, apparently oblivious to Mako's distraction, and at the sound of Yaozhu calling his name, Mako startled back to reality. Yaozhu _never_ said his name. When Mako looked up at him he was pointing out the window behind him. "They're coming back!"

Mako wheeled about and stared outside, too. Yaozhu was right. The cops were swarming back to the building. They didn't look pleased.

"Yaozhu," Mako said, and he wrenched open the window, "distraction, now. _Carefully_."

Mako stepped away from the window and allowed Yaozhu the room to do what he needed to do, and he looked back to Beifong with new purpose.

"I'm sorry, Chief. I have to go. We're stationed in Fire Fountain City. There are hundreds of people there, including captive waterbenders and earthbenders. I don't know if they have any airbenders, but I know the other two for fact. Get a group together and storm the island, but be careful when you do it. There are innocent people there, and I don't want them to get hurt because of me."

Yaozhu shot a combustion bolt across the way.

Beifong blinked very hard and stared at Yaozhu again. The look of recognizance flashed on her face.

"Yeah," Mako said flatly. He knew exactly what she was thinking. "He's a combustion bender. But he's a good kid."

Again, it looked to Mako like Beifong was flailing for words that wouldn't come.

"Send help," Mako said. "But wait until we've gone. I'll be back on the island in five days or so. Don't delay our boat, and watch for the attacks." He didn't want for Beifong to respond before he turned to Yaozhu and said, "Let's get out of here."

They vaulted out the window, and didn't look back.


	23. The Boiling Rock

Korra, Asami, and Opal were long gone by the time the explosions ripped through Republic City's population centers. They departed via sky bison almost as soon as Suyin's airship had cleared the landing pad, and had passed what they imagined to be an uneventful morning in comfortable quiet.

In the days prior to their departure and in what little time wasn't occupied by the drama surrounding Bolin, Opal and Lin had plotted a course that would lead them over the Mo Ce Bay and toward the western reaches of United Republic territory. Such a path would allow them ample opportunity to stop for rest, and according to their calculations, they would arrive at the island where the Boiling Rock prison was located some time on the second day of their trip, as long as they stopped as planned in the Hu Xin Peninsula. Little else had been decided about the trip, so the girls spent the first day plotting.

Lin had done all of the talking with Firelord Izumi and had given them precious little information to work with. The only new information was that they were allowed full run of the place, as it was supposed to have been abandoned years ago, and the Firelord dearly desired for it to be destroyed altogether. Lin said that Izumi hated that such a horrible place still stood and would consider it a favor to the Fire Nation if Korra, Opal, and Asami managed to clear it out.

Asami led their discussion now. Always prepared, she'd brought along maps and all manner of supplementary information about the Boiling Rock, including its history of use during the Hundred Year War and prior. By mid-afternoon on their first day of travel the three girls had ironed out most of the details: They would skirt the island, enter from the west at sundown, drop Juicy at the outer beach, and proceed through the volcanic outer ring with earthbending. Once inside, they would cross the island's famed boiling moat using waterbending, and then scale the tall interior walls into the compound via airbending. It was a solid plan, providing there weren't troops waiting for them.

It was a solid plan even if there _were_ troops waiting; it would just require a little more finesse.

Having settled on their plans, they passed the afternoon in even more quiet, and Korra couldn't decide whether it was because nobody had anything to say, because they were all just a little nervous about their plan, or because this had been the first real opportunity for quiet that any of them had had in almost three weeks. While Korra thought, Opal napped and Asami read, and as Korra stared out over the sprawling landscape of the United Republic passing below, ideas floated through her mind without much direction. She spent a considerable time worrying about the plan, about ambush, about what they might find at the Boiling Rock that could prove surprising. The combustion bender had labeled it as _the quarantine_, and had explained that newly acquired prisoners were sent there for processing. Korra imagined it would be crawling with people. She wondered how many of those people would be hostile.

When that worry passed on, she thought about Mako and whether he was still alive out there. She wondered if they were too late. His note had mentioned that he'd been relocated to Fire Fountain City, and Korra couldn't help but wonder why she wasn't going there instead of the Boiling Rock. But then she settled and decided that they needed to take things one step at a time, to be patient. If the Boiling Rock was where prisoners went first, then it was where they needed to go first, too.

Suddenly she found herself considering what might happen if they found Mako alive, and her insides started turning in knots. She imagined the horror he must have suffered with the explosion in Ba Sing Se and the confusion that surrounded it. If he was alive, he might be hurt. If he wasn't hurt, he'd be lonely and miserable.

And what if he came home? How would Mako react if he saw Bolin? When Korra thought of that the knots tightened. Even if Mako remained unchanged and healthy, the opposite couldn't be said of his brother. Bolin had changed so much in the time Mako had been gone, and not all of it had been for the better. In fact, now she thought on the matter, very little of it had been for the better. She imagined that Mako probably wouldn't approve of the anger or the sarcasm. He definitely wouldn't approve of the violent mood swings. But he might be happy that the immature joking had stopped, and Korra wondered if that exchange was worth it in the end.

She hadn't really considered that before, the stark difference. All she knew was that everything Bolin did seemed to fall into one extreme or another, and that outside of that morning at the breakfast table she hadn't seen him look legitimately happy since before the funeral, and she couldn't even be sure if his happiness that morning had been caused by genuine feeling or if it was the surge of endorphins after his night with Opal. Otherwise, he certainly had smiled and seemed occasionally content, but everywhere he went he carried some kind of burden, especially since the collapse. He really _had_ endured a horrible month, and there was no arguing it had taken its toll on him to disastrous ends.

For the first time since they'd kissed, Korra thought about Bolin and didn't feel the weightless flutter in her chest. Instead, a sick feeling came to the pit of her stomach. He'd been so deceptive in the last weeks that Korra wondered if even Suyin's supervision would be enough, and she wondered if he'd make any improvement even in Zaofu. She hoped he would. And the tiniest part of her hoped no trace of Mako would ever be found, if only to spare Bolin the stress of dealing with _another_ major development.

Plus, he'd be devastated if he learned everything they had been keeping from him. Korra cringed despite herself when she considered the possibility: If she thought Bolin had exploded at her before over little actions and slips of the tongue, she imagined it would be child's play compared to how he'd explode if he discovered that everyone had been keeping the whole truth away from him. He'd never forgive them if Mako was actually alive and he found out that they had suspected it all along.

The sick feeling persisted until well after they had set up camp for the evening, and though Korra tried to act natural, Opal and Asami both seemed to notice her uneasiness.

Together the three settled in the middle of a plain on the Hu Xin peninsula, near enough to the coast that their meager camp overlooked a wide expanse of the Mo Ce Sea which connected them to Fire Nation territory. They watched the water as they took their dinner, and after sundown they unrolled their packs and sat around a gently crackling fire to eat their dinner.

Korra wondered if the other two felt as anxious about their investigation and its aftermath as she did. She wondered if they had the same worries about Bolin that she did, at least with regard to the Mako situation. Of course they wouldn't be worried about any _other _awkwardness.

She kept her eyes on the flickering fire, and out of the blue she said, "What do you think we're going to find tomorrow?"

"I don't know," Asami said. "Maybe a prison full of people. Maybe nothing."

"Maybe we'll find evidence that there _were_ people," Opal said. "But I think it'll depend on how long ago Mako sent that note. If these people wanted to keep under wraps they'd stay on the move, wouldn't you think?"

"You'd think so," Korra agreed feebly. She drew abstract shapes in the dirt with her finger. "I guess it doesn't really matter though, does it? We've got to go no matter what we might find."

For a while the three stayed quiet, and the only noises were the wind, Juicy's moist snoring, and the crackling of their continually dying campfire. Korra was content to sit there and watch the flame. She would just as soon go to bed as carry on any more conversation. She didn't really feel like chatting, anyway.

Asami and Opal, however, seemed keen to talk now their bellies were full of Pema's home-cooked steam buns.

"So what's been eating you all day?" Asami asked Korra, apparently from nowhere.

Korra looked up from the dirt, startled. "What?"

"You've been all quiet today, and you look really stressed out. I know you better than to think you're just nervous about tomorrow. Besides, you don't get nervous about this kind of thing, a go-getter like you."

"Oh," Korra said. Asami had taken away her excuse, so she floundered to find another one that skirted the truth. "It's just that a lot has happened lately." She felt stupid as soon as she'd said the words. It felt like she'd been saying that phrase too much lately.

"I think we can all agree with that," Opal said. Korra could hear the smile in her voice without even looking at her. "I think we're probably through the worst of it now, though."

"You think so?" Asami asked.

Opal nodded happily. "I do, really. We're following up on the leads Aunt Lin got about Mako and doing everything we can to find him, if he's out there. Aunt Lin is in control of things in the city. I'm pretty sure my mom is going to take good care of Bolin." She paused thoughtfully and looked out the corner of her eye toward the sky. "And by that I mean that she's going to rule him with an iron fist. If she's watching over him, he'll have no choice but to get better."

Asami and Opal shared a laugh, but Korra didn't join in. She didn't think it was very funny at all. Iron fist or no, Bolin was stubborn, and he'd proven that beyond any manner of doubt. And he'd proven himself a better liar than anyone had ever given him credit for, too, even if it had been simple omission instead of blatant dishonesty.

"And if we manage to find Mako, things will get even better," Asami said. Her voice had taken on the same jovial tone that Opal's had. "We can bring him home and that'll make Bo happy. Maybe it'll pull him out of his hole."

"Maybe," Opal agreed. "I would hope so, considering that's the whole reason he fell in the hole to begin with."

Korra hoped so, too, but she didn't cling to it. Sure, Bolin might be happy that Mako was alive, but he'd be livid to find out they had known all along. And there was always the complication of the collapse, and nobody knew for sure how to determine what of his recent behavior had been caused by that and what had been caused by the loss of his brother.

"I didn't say thank you," Opal said, and when Korra looked up a bit startled from her thoughts she noted that Opal was talking to her, "for talking some sense into me last night."

All Korra could offer was a weak grin.

"So, how are things with you two?" Opal continued, her good mood unsoured by Korra's lackluster response.

Asami shrugged and glanced at Korra. Her cheeks had taken on a slightly rosier tint than usual. She smiled, then looked at Opal and said, "I think things are going well. Nothing too crazy yet, but we're getting used to each other."

"I'm so happy for you two," Opal said. "I was surprised when I found out you were together, but I think you're a really good match."

Korra felt her face growing a little bit warm. She looked back at the dirt and listened to Asami giggle.

"We're taking it slow," Asami said. "But I hear you and Bolin are getting pretty serious."

Korra looked up, startled again, and glanced between Asami and Opal. Both of them still wore enormous smiles, but they had turned a little naughty, like a couple of little girls discussing a schoolyard crush. Asami had taken to leaning forward, her elbows propped on her legs. Opal had covered her reddening face with her hands.

"I guess so," said Opal. Despite her blushing, a hint of disappointment had crept into her voice. Korra wondered if Asami had noticed it. "But we've been together a long time, too."

"How are you holding up?" Asami asked. "I mean, you personally, with everything that's going on, that is."

"Oh, I'm okay," Opal replied coolly. "Hanging in there, you know. There's not much else I can do." She smiled. "But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't difficult. I don't know that I really like how... Cynical... He's gotten. It's not necessarily _bad_, I guess. It's just _weird_. I'd expect that attitude more out of Grandma Toph than out of him."

"But he's been getting better," Asami said, and now she leaned back, too. "He can talk normally now. And he definitely looks better than he did,"

Opal went very red then, and her smile widened. She looked sheepishly at the ground.

"What?" Asami asked playfully. "What's that look for?"

Opal laughed. "You're right. He _does_ look better."

Korra watched Asami think about the statement, watched her think about Opal's reaction, and watched as the truth dawned on her. When she had recognized the truth, Asami's grin turned very mischievous. Korra liked the look on her.

"Oh?" Asami said, teasing. "What's that mean?"

"Oh, come on!" Opal cried, exasperated. "I don't want to talk about this!"

"You can't say something like that and not talk about it," Asami said. "Come on. It's just us!" She motioned between her and Korra. "And what are we going to do? Right, Korra?"

Korra worried that the half grin she produced looked more awkward than agreeable.

Red-faced, Opal began poking at the dirt the same as Korra had done earlier. She looked profoundly nervous. "I don't know," she stammered. "I shouldn't say anything, but... I don't know. Oh, it's horrible!"

Asami's face went serious, then. She looked a little concerned. "What?" She asked gently. "Is something wrong?"

"I feel guilty!" Opal cried, though she didn't sound particularly off-put. She sounded more exasperated; somehow frustrated with her inability to articulate what she was thinking. "He didn't eat and dropped all that weight, but then he was training with Korra and... You know…" She looked at Korra as though begging Korra to step in.

"Yeah, we trained a lot," Korra agreed lamely.

"And, well..." Opal paused, the nervousness coming back. "He's not my big armadillo-bear anymore. He's leaned out a bit. I feel bad to say it, but it's kind of nice, too. He was cute before. Now he's _gorgeous_."

Asami fell backward with an enormous laugh, and she laid there for a while stricken by the giggles. When she righted herself, tears had collected in her eyes. She rubbed them away.

"It's not funny!" Opal protested. "I didn't mean it to sound so shallow!"

"It's not shallow," Asami said. "Everyone likes a good-looking partner, that's why I've got Korra!" She elbowed Korra playfully, and Korra offered her lackluster grin again.

"I'm glad you think so, but I still feel bad," Opal said again, and despite what she said, her embarrassment seemed to be easing. "You two are good together, but I guess I already said that."

The three of them fell quiet again, and this time it was a content, happy quiet. At least it was content for Opal and Asami. Opal kept staring at the dirt, her face all red, and Asami kept looking between Opal and Korra as though there was something else she wanted to say, some other avenue of conversation she wanted to pursue. Korra knew the look well enough; it was the look that said Asami wanted to engage in some healthy, feminine gossip. But Korra didn't want to.

When Asami began asking Opal more personal questions, questions about what it felt like to be kissed and touched and have all manner of intimate contact that they hadn't yet shared together, Korra began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. She grew more uncomfortable still when Opal answered candidly. And when Opal and Asami began theoretically comparing their experiences in kissing, Korra stood and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Asami asked, interrupting Opal mid-sentence. "Are you okay?"

Korra looked down, mustered a smile, and said, "Bathroom!"

She walked away.

She just needed to walk. And she needed to stop listening to the two of them discussing boys. Korra didn't want to think about that sort of thing at a time like this, not when such a serious day was ahead of them. She didn't want to remember Bolin hugging her just that morning, and she didn't want the memory of that warm, tingling feeling to remind her of the night he'd kissed her.

But the thoughts came anyway, and she hated them.

Korra stayed away from camp for a while, for longer than it would take any reasonable person to use the bathroom, and by the time she returned the fire had died completely, and both Opal and Asami had laid down. Neither of them was sleeping, but they weren't talking either, and Korra took that as a blessing.

"You were gone a while," Asami said sleepily. "Everything okay?"

Korra nodded and sat, grabbed her pack, and began situating herself for sleep. "Yep," she said as genuinely as she could. "I just wanted to walk around a little bit and see what was around here. I got a little distracted is all."

"Okay," Asami said. Korra noted a definite skepticism in her voice. "But you _are_ okay, right?"

"Of course," Korra said.

"You're just acting a little weird lately, that's all," Asami said. Korra wished she'd let that particular topic die. "You've been acting all nervous all day. I figured after dinner you'd calm down a little."

"Just nervous about tomorrow!" Korra said, and she lay down. "Better get to sleep; we've got a long day ahead."

"You're right," Asami agreed, but she didn't sound entirely convinced. When Asami said, "Good night," Korra was glad she hadn't pressed the matter.

Opal and Korra both echoed their good nights, and the camp went silent. Asami and Opal were asleep within ten or fifteen minutes, but Korra lay awake staring at the sky, all manner of thoughts flooding her head. She could've participated in their kissing conversation easily, and maybe she should've to cover her embarrassment. Asami seemed suspicious now. No, Asami _was_ suspicious now. And had Korra participated, she would've been able to end the _great kissing debate_ singlehandedly and without much contemplation on her end. Mako had never been one for intimacy; it was always a little bit awkward because he never seemed all that confident in himself, at least in those matters. Bolin had been bold and confident and remarkably suave. Asami had been a little bit weird, but not wholly unpleasant, and Korra imagined that with a little more practice it could be enjoyable.

But for now, she knew firsthand who was better.

* * *

The next morning, all of Korra's nervousness shifted completely from the complexity of inter-friend relationships to the very real possibility that they'd meet trouble at the Boiling Rock. Asami and Opal both seemed to share in her worry, as neither of them said a word about the way Korra was acting or about their interactions the night prior.

They set out early and passed the trek in silence until they began to see the islands which comprised the Fire Nation archipelago rising distant out of the sea. Opal navigated northward to skirt the Boiling Rock proper, and they ate and recuperated on Lengyao Island, a large and vaguely circular plot of land straight north of their destination. Then, when the sun began to descend toward the horizon, they secured their provisions in Juicy's back-saddle and set out again.

By the time the island came into view the sun was low in the sky. They could see little detail about the place, except for its distinctive geology and the huge plume of steam that rose above it. It looked as a volcano with its high exterior walls, but in its hollow center rose a smaller island upon which was housed the Boiling Rock prison. This was their final destination.

Opal coaxed Juicy to the ground on the western beach outside of the enormous rock walls, and once Korra and Asami had disembarked, sent the sky bison on its way. Then, the three girls looked to each other, shared a collective nod, and set about their business.

With a sweep of her foot and a thrust of her hands, Korra parted the exterior of the island easily, leading them through the rock at an incline to avoid any potential contact with the boiling water beyond. They came out the other side some minutes later, emerging onto a small stone outcropping of Korra's making, which afforded them a bottom-up view of the island in the center of the moat.

The whole place was dark, and not just for the night.

Korra stepped toward the bubbling water and thrust her hands downward, drew them apart, and separated it at its bank. Then she said, "Stay close," and stepped in.

Even with Korra's bending, the walk across the bottom of the sulfuric lake was overwhelmingly hot and more than a little bit scary. All around them the water boiled and shifted, and the going was slow. It was hard to bend the water, and every ounce of Korra's focus stayed on maintaining their tiny bubble of safety, until at last they surfaced at the base of the Boiling Rock's enormous inner wall.

Korra and Opal wrapped their arms around Asami's shoulders and together airlifted themselves to the top of the towering rock, and even this close the place remained utterly dark. From their high perch they could see no people milling about and no activity anywhere on the grounds or in the windows. Even the famed gondola, the vehicle which ferried inmates and personnel between the outer rock wall and the prison's inner workings, sat still and dark at the far end of its track.

The place looked to be abandoned, but Korra kept up her guard.

On the one hand, she truly hoped that there would be no one inside. On the one hand she hoped for a smooth, quick look about. But on the other, she wanted someone to be there. She wanted a person beyond Beifong's captive combustion bender to interrogate. She wanted someone who stood on the inside of the society's circle, closer to the middle than the edge, and Korra figured that anyone manning _the quarantine_ would fit the bill nicely.

"We stay together," Korra whispered. "No matter what. We don't want to be caught off guard, even if it does look dead here."

Opal and Asami heartily agreed, and the three set off down the slope.

Korra knew from the very beginning that this place had never been in good shape. Its exterior fencing had crumbled, its foundation had cracked in a thousand places, and the enormous prison structure itself appeared to be leaning very slightly on its base. The building was made of rusted metal which at one point seemed to have been painted Fire Nation red, and all of its windows had been covered with thick metal bars that had gone dull from exposure to the elements.

Nothing had been left behind, at least not in the yard where the three girls stood. Not a single scrap of debris littered the ground anywhere in sight. There existed no evidence that anyone had inhabited this place for a long, long time.

But then Korra thought about it. It was _too_ clean. Certainly if the prison had been abandoned decades ago there would be some evidence; bird droppings or debris carried in on the winds. Nature should have taken its hold after a while the same as it would have for any other abandoned man-made structure. But there was nothing. It looked to Korra as though the yard had been thoroughly cleaned, scrubbed of anything that might indicate there had ever been people there at all. Such cleanliness meant that human hands had to have been involved.

"Stay close, and be careful," Korra repeated again once their sweep of the outside was complete. Then she led them to the red metal doors that served as the prison's single entry point, thrust her hands forward, and tore the metal apart from its center. Clearly this place had never been used to house earthbenders, Korra thought, because they would've been able to escape far too easily.

The hallway into which the girls entered was darker than they imagined it would be, with tiny particles of dust floating all around like thick fog. The waning sun filtered in through rectangular glass windows in each door, spaced out evenly along the corridor, and aside from their own tentative footsteps, the place was completely silent.

Korra led the way, producing a bright flame in her palm to light their path, which only made things creepier. The light flickered off of reflective panels outside each door, and as they passed by, Korra, Opal, and Asami peeked inside as they could. From what little they were able to see, the rooms here were empty except for rusted old furniture which looked to Korra as though it belonged in a hospital circa the Hundred Year War. Each room seemed to house a bed or a clinical chair, a sink or basin, and a wooden ladder back chair. A thin layer of dust had settled on everything.

As they walked, they discussed the possible uses for such rooms, and ultimately decided that they were, in some capacity, healing chambers similar to what they might find in a small-town hospital. It seemed the only thing that made any sense and would account for all the various items within each.

Of these doors, only two were unlocked, and within them Opal found a few papers bearing the names, occupations, birth places, and residences of people none of them had ever heard of, and each was marked over with a large red X. She also found a single apron that looked well worn and yellowed. The apron she left, but the papers she collected and pocketed for future investigation.

After a time, they came to the end of the initial corridor, which opened into an enormous square room with multiple stories that seemed to spiral inward toward a central courtyard on the bottom floor. Each wall was lined with rows of unmarked doors, and all of these were unlocked. They weren't very interesting, though.

The girls recognized these tiny rooms as cells inside which they imagined quarantined firebenders or other prisoners must have been held. Each contained a tiny bed-really an inches thick mattress seated atop a few slatted boards-a small table, and a chair. Between the furniture was barely enough floor space to maneuver around, let alone find a comfortable place to sprawl. Further, each room contained the same selection of books stacked upon its table, consisting of old Fire Nation propaganda that dated to the Hundred Year War. Common among them all was a copy of either _A History of Fire Nation Conquest_ or _Firelord Sozin: A Biography_.

None of the girls had ever read either book, but Asami lifted a copy of each to take back home. It could be that they would find some information inside that could be of use in their search. Maybe.

By the time they finished their sweep of the first cell block, the sun had dipped well below the horizon and any natural light they had been afforded disappeared entirely. While they had been on high alert upon entering the place, they felt worse now it was dark, and they kept close to each other.

They wandered through another identical cell block which contained the same effects as the first and was equally barren otherwise. Eventually they trekked through a door labeled _Cell Block C_, and a marked change came upon the building.

At any point prior to this threshold, everything had been poorly cared for and seemed mostly to have fallen apart. What few items were still in good repair had been antiquated at best. This place, a block of the same layout as the prior two, had been extremely well cared for, renovated, and upon first glance lacked the same coating of dust that had settled everywhere else. Further, there were what appeared to be personal belongings in the rooms, and the rooms themselves were easily twice the size as the other cells.

Korra couldn't wager a guess as to why that was.

A shining metal plate bearing one or two names had been affixed to each door, which Opal and Asami agreed represented the people housed inside. Asami took down each of these names in turn, and whenever they were presented with an unlocked door, they entered.

They found everything from cups and plates to books and photographs all littered around the space, and it seemed to Korra that whoever had stayed here left in a hurry. It seemed to Korra that they hadn't even had time to pack. In some cases they hadn't even had time to finish their meal.

"I bet these were officer's quarters," Asami said as she meandered through one of the rooms. She picked up a cup and looked inside. "Tea."

"So what?" Korra said.

"Well, left around for too long in a place like this, the tea would either evaporate or mold," Asami reasoned, and she thrust the cup toward Korra. "It's still pretty clear."

Korra looked into the cup.

"So that means this place hasn't been abandoned for long," Opal said. "A couple of days at most."

It made sense, Korra thought. It accounted for the disparity between the cell blocks. She figured that Block A and Block B must've housed prisoners or quarantines-nobody would really care too much about their living conditions-and Block C, with its cushioned beds and plush chairs, must indeed have housed high-ranking personnel.

"So what made them leave?" Korra asked after a while. "If they were settled in here, why would they leave so quickly that they couldn't even pack up their things?"

Asami poked her head back into the hallway. "Well, if what we're assuming is right, they probably didn't have much notice."

"I wonder if they knew about Mako's letter," Opal said. "Would explain why they left so fast. If they found out Mako warned us about this place, they might've abandoned it so we didn't catch them."

"Makes sense," Korra agreed.

But that didn't bode well for Mako, she thought. If he was indeed stationed at Fire Fountain City, as his note said, and someone found out that he'd leaked information the odds were good that he'd be punished pretty severely, if not killed outright. A lump of anxiety formed in her throat when she thought about it, but at the same time, she felt glad they hadn't told Bolin that Mako might be alive. It would've been far worse to get his hopes up, only to dash them in the end.

He'd been unstable enough as is.

The remainder of the compound yielded little of note. Opal collected a few papers which she'd found in a glass-paneled room that the girls imagined had been used for conferences. They retired outside and combed through the exterior once more.

"What about the gondola?" Asami asked. "Might be something in there."

Korra shrugged. "If you think you can get it over here."

Asami made her way to the operating mechanism and began to tinker. She hummed a little bit to herself and made several mentions of how old its interior components were, but eventually she managed to get the thing powered on with an enormous _clunk_.

The gondola began its long, slow trek across the sulfuric moat, and as it traveled it creaked and swayed on its cabling. It looked to Korra that it might fall down at any moment, like even the slightest breeze might blow it off its track. She felt glad that they hadn't needed to ride it across.

After a time, the car came to a halt at its dock, and Korra took a look inside. On its interior console sat a fresh-looking logbook, which she tossed to Opal, and a few littered remnants of scrap that seemed unimportant at best. There was no layer of dust here, which she attributed to the open windows and constant sea breeze, but there was the faintest smell of _something_ cutting through the sulfurous steam.

Korra recognized it too late.

It wasn't the first time she'd been faced with an explosion in such close proximity, but it was the first time that such a thing engulfed her on all sides, and it was the first time that her companions were out of reach. As the fumes ignited and the flames erupted, Korra threw herself to the floor of the gondola and bent the air around her body, forcing the heat and smoke upward and, she hoped, away from Opal and Asami.

She lay beneath the flames, terrified, for what seemed a long time before the fuel was spent, and when it had gone she scrambled into the open. She wasn't sure what she would find. She hoped Opal and Asami had been far enough away to avoid the blast. She wondered how she, herself, had avoided the blast.

Much to Korra's horror, Opal and Asami were on the ground, and for a while they didn't move. But then, very slowly, they shifted and looked up with soot-covered faces, and they both looked every bit as scared as Korra felt.

"Are you okay?" Asami cried, and she jumped to her feet.

Korra didn't bother to answer. Instead she rushed forward, grabbed Asami and Opal by the wrists, and bolted toward the enormous rock wall surrounding the compound. They had gotten lucky, she knew. This place had probably been booby trapped the whole time. Whoever had abandoned it had probably set the whole place to blow, and had expected any investigators to cross into the prison by way of the gondola. There was no telling what might be triggered next.

As they neared the wall, Korra did away with all thought of airbending them precisely. Instead, she threw Opal and Asami ahead of her, gave a great stomp of her foot, and thrust her fists skyward. A pillar of earth shot up beneath their feet, and as they flew Korra directed them to safety with her airbending.

Another explosion set off the moment their feet touched the top of the wall. A deafening _boom_ radiated from deep within the building, and a series of smaller yet still powerful explosions followed as if by chain reaction.

Korra wasn't going to wait around to see what happened next. She wasn't going to stay and watch. Instead, she planted her hands firmly in the middle of Opal and Asami's backs and pushed them from the wall toward the steaming, boiling moat below, and as they fell she began to manipulate the water. By the time they reached the surface she'd drawn up a sizeable column, frozen it solid, then throttled it with all her might back down. They landed in the cool spot, and at once Korra set to work, providing the three of them a safe haven beneath the surface.

When she looked up, the whole sky seemed to have caught fire. Flaming debris rocketed into the night, propelled by countless blasts from within the Boiling Rock, and plumes of thick black smoke obscured the stars. Pieces of scrap and metal rained down into the water. She wondered if the whole place had been set to go up.

She didn't want to stay to find out.

Korra pushed Opal and Asami forward until they emerged on the same shallow beach they'd entered by earlier, carved a sloppy hole through the stone, and led them through as quickly as she could. The whole while, she could hear eruptions behind them. She could feel the blasts pulsing through the rock and shaking the earth beneath her feet.

The moment they came through the other side of the mountain, Opal blew her sky bison whistle, and another minute later Juicy had touched back down on the beach, looking skittish. The girls loaded themselves into the basket without a word to one another, and then set off as quickly as they could northward and toward safe territory.

It was only after they had cleared the island that Korra bothered looking back to see the enormity of the destruction. What wasn't obscured by the smoke had been obliterated completely. Only portions of the interior walls seemed to still be standing, or at least that was all that Korra could tell.

In relative safety, they checked their wounds. Opal and Asami had managed to come out relatively unscathed with a few cuts and scrapes from the flying debris, and Korra herself had managed only a long scratch down the arm she'd used to block the initial blast. None of it was serious enough to warrant any particular worry.

"It's a good thing we didn't use that car to get to the island," Korra said once she'd caught her breath and had gotten her nerves back around her.

"No kidding," Asami replied. She still sounded shocked. "I can't believe we didn't notice any hookups in there. I wonder what triggered the gondola to go up."

"That might be why it was powered down," Opal reasoned. She sounded shocked, too. "Once you turned it back on, that must have set everything into action."

"Makes sense," Korra agreed. She looked out to the distant smoke again. "I guess all that's left to do now is get the items we grabbed to Lin so that she can brief the Firelord about what we found. Or what we didn't find, anyway."

"Agreed," Asami said.

* * *

The two day trek back to Republic City passed almost entirely in silence, and they rested very little. Korra wasn't sure if everyone was simply too tired or if everyone had been too frightened by what had happened to say anything about it. But she wasn't going to press for needless conversation. She had a lot on her mind as well.

They touched down at Air Temple Island around noon, and Tenzin met them at the stables. He looked slightly displeased, a little concerned, and overwhelmingly tired. Korra hadn't seen him in such a state since the day of the collapse.

"We've got news," Tenzin said as soon as they had disembarked, and from the tone of his voice, Korra knew it wasn't good. Tenzin's pause occupied only a second, but it was enough for a dozen terrible scenarios to play out in Korra's head. Primary among them was that something else had happened to Bolin. But then Tenzin took a deep breath and pressed on. "You girls can't stay here," he said. "There've been half a dozen attacks since you left, and Raiko is taking drastic measures."

"What?" Korra blurted. Judging by the look on Asami and Opal's faces, they felt the same sense of surprise that she did. "What do you mean?"

"I don't have much detail, but I know that the group of firebenders who attacked Ba Sing Se caused a number of explosions around the city. They claimed responsibility for it in an open letter to the press yesterday. Raiko has mandated all firebenders in the United Republic to register their names, photographs, and fingerprints to the police."

Again, all Korra could say was, "What?"

Tenzin sighed, exasperated. "They're creating a registry," he explained in the same tone he might've used when scolding Meelo or Rohan. "They're creating a registry for firebenders in the United Republic, so that when another attack happens they can track down whoever is responsible. The whole city is up in arms over the thing, especially the thousands of innocent people who are being targeted by the measure. I don't think it's safe for any of you to be here, not right now."

"But-"

"I won't hear any excuses," Tenzin said firmly. "It won't take long for you to get to Zaofu if you take Oogi." Tenzin paused and shot a conciliatory glance to Opal. "Oogi is faster and stronger, and hasn't just made a five day trip. As soon as you're there I'll try and get you a wire with more information."

"Why can't we get more information _now_?" asked Asami.

"Because I don't even have it," Tenzin said. He sounded genuinely upset now. "I've barely been able to talk to Lin. She's been too busy trying to do damage control and every time I try to speak with her she brushes me off. I worry something is wrong beyond the obvious."

Korra didn't know what to do except say, "Okay." She couldn't argue with Tenzin on the matter. She couldn't really argue with Tenzin on _any_ matter. If what he said was true, there were likely to be riots and violence in the streets, and in such a scenario there would only be so much that even the Avatar could do to stop it. Considering her rocky relationship with Raiko, he might even target her. Best to lay low, she figured, until someone somewhere could come up with a plan of action or placate the angry citizens.

"Here," Opal said at last, and she produced the items she'd collected from the Boiling Rock. "We found these while we were there."

Asami gave over the books she'd taken as well.

"The whole place blew up," Korra said by way of explanation. "We set off some kind of chain, I don't think there's anything left except what we've got here." Then, when Tenzin's face screwed up, she added hastily, "I'll send a letter to the Firelord with all the details. You've got enough to worry about here."

"I would appreciate that," Tenzin said. "Now, I'll go get supplies to last you the trip to Zaofu. You gather what things you'll need. I want you out of here within the hour."


	24. Zaofu

The awkwardness hit as soon as the doors to the airship closed, and as if by default Bolin fell back into silence. Even if he'd felt a little better that morning, any positivity he'd had seemed to have stayed with Opal on Air Temple Island. Now that he was by himself again and without the safety net his friends provided, he'd deflated under the weight of reality. Soon he'd be in Zaofu without anyone he really cared about, and his every move would be scrutinized and over evaluated.

He passed the time staring out the window and trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened to land him in such a horrible position. A lot of things had happened, but common among them all was an alarming degree of negativity, anger, and disbelief that seemed to have begun the day of Mako's funeral. That felt like such a long time ago. He'd been able to control himself back then. He'd been able to control himself up until the point when Katara knocked his bending loose. After that, he'd crumbled.

In all, Asami had been right. It seemed she was always right about this kind of thing. He wasn't getting better. He was getting worse and had been for a while, but he was just too stubborn to admit it. He had never considered himself to be particularly prideful, but now he knew it had been there all the same. He just wished Asami would have spoken up sooner. He wished that he'd taken the time to stop and think earlier. Maybe if he had, he'd still be at Air Temple Island. Maybe if he had, he'd be helping with the investigation of the Boiling Rock.

That was the worst part, Bolin thought, being stuck on the sidelines while everyone else pursued leads on the people who'd attacked Ba Sing Se. Or maybe the worst part was that nobody trusted him anymore. Nobody trusted him about anything. If they didn't believe he cared enough to see his own base needs met, if they didn't believe he cared whether he lived or died, how could they ever believe he'd be a benefit to any kind of investigation?

He cringed.

He'd have been a liability if he'd gone with the girls. If they were attacked while he was there he'd probably do more harm than good in the end. He'd probably collapse again and then they'd have to haul him out unconscious. He was in no condition to protect anyone. He was in no condition to bend in even a casual capacity, let alone in a potential fight with people who wanted to kill him. He hadn't been in that kind of shape in weeks, not since before the collapse, not since before he'd blown up at Lin and Su. Not since the South Pole.

Maybe the bending block had all been in his head, just like everything else seemed to be. Maybe he never should have taken Katara up on her offer to help fix it. Maybe it would've come back on its own when his mind and body were more prepared.

And there it was, as plain as day: He hadn't been prepared. Not for any of it. He hadn't been ready to lose Mako or deal with the fallout. He hadn't been ready to get his bending back. He hadn't been ready to take part in the investigation. But he'd tried to do it anyway and it had led him to disaster. He'd skipped too many steps on the path to recovering, and in the end he'd just fallen on his face. It was worse than that, truthfully, but Bolin couldn't think of a good enough metaphor to do it justice.

All he knew was that he felt awful in more ways than he ever believed possible. And maybe he'd acknowledged the physical side of things because there was no shame in being injured, but he'd never admitted to the psychological problems because there _was_ shame in being _hurt_.

He didn't know why there was shame. There shouldn't have been, but there it was all the same. He wasn't the first person to feel _bad_ in the world. He wasn't the first person to experience horrible things that set him back a little bit. But then again, he hadn't been set back _a little bit_. He'd been set back so far that what once had been a matter of _would not_ turned to a matter of _could not_. He'd been set back so far that he could no longer say what he wanted or needed to get better. He couldn't bring himself to ask for help. He'd been set back so far that he couldn't keep food down, and he couldn't figure out if _that_ was a physical problem or if it had been caused by something in his head. He couldn't even _eat_. What kind of pathetic mess did that make him?

By the time Su found him, he'd depressed himself again, and it seemed from the moment she sat down beside him on the padded bench beneath the window that she knew it. He could tell from the look on her face, and he imagined that if he'd been paying more attention, he would've felt it, too.

"No Pabu, huh?" She said by way of greeting. It seemed to Bolin that she was trying to sound casual.

"He doesn't really like flying," Bolin replied flatly. "Last time I saw him he was under a chair somewhere."

"Well," Su continued with a sigh, "how are you feeling?"

"Fine." It was a lie and he knew it. And she probably knew it, too. He kept staring out the window, though it was beginning to get dark and he couldn't see much beyond clouds and mountains. He didn't want to look at her.

"We'll be home shortly, and I wanted to talk to you before we set down. I think you'll appreciate it more if I give things to you straight, right?"

Bolin shrugged. He didn't know what she'd be _giving him_ to begin with. Whether it was straight or not wouldn't likely make much difference.

"You'll have your own room in the Beifong estate, though I wouldn't call it an apartment by any means. You'll still have to come out for meals."

Bolin didn't miss the meaningful pause after she'd finished her thought.

"I'm going to have you stay on rest for another couple of days," Su continued slowly, and when Bolin made to protest she shushed him before he ever opened his mouth. "No, you need to hear me out. Two days is all I'm asking, and it's not without purpose. I'll have people in to speak with you about arranging your things, and that'll take up most of your time."

Bolin stared hard at her for a minute before repeating flatly, "Arranging my things?"

"Yes. Maybe that wasn't the best way to put it," Su said thoughtfully. "What I mean is that I've made appointments with a few people who are going to try to help make you as comfortable as possible." She paused. The way she'd said it made it sound like he was dying. But she continued without much in the way of reaction. "I've arranged with our chef to discuss meals, a decorator will come by to make sure your room is the way you'd like it to be, I'll have a purchaser in to see that you've got everything you want otherwise." She had begun counting on her fingers. She wasn't even looking at him anymore. "Our tailor will come in and get you measured for some new clothes."

Bolin wasn't sure how he felt about all of this for reasons outside of the obvious. He didn't want that kind of attention. That wasn't why he'd agreed to come. Now he thought on it, he hadn't _agreed_ to come at all. This had been forced on him, good idea or not, and all he wanted was to be left to fix himself on his own. He didn't want to be pampered or coddled or _attended to_ in any way, really. He just wanted time and quiet and the space to think about what the heck was going on in his head, try to focus himself, and get back to normal.

"I don't really think I need all that," he said at last.

"Nonsense," Su said. There was a crispness in the word that left no room for argument. "Here's the deal, sweetheart: You give me those two days at rest-and I mean two days starting tomorrow morning, not tonight-and after that you'll have full autonomy. Okay? After those two days you can go anywhere you want and do anything you want, no questions asked."

It was weird how Bolin kept wanting to laugh at the worst times, at the times when laughter would come off as derisive or sarcastic. But the thought of _full autonomy_ seemed ridiculous in this context. There didn't seem to be anything autonomous about what was happening here at all. He held in the laugh and stared at his shoes instead.

"I mean that," Su said. Bolin wondered if she had read his expression, or if his face had screwed up somehow to give him away. "I know that the last thing you want is for everyone to be watching you all the time. I trust you to make the decisions that are best for you. You're the only one who knows how good or bad you feel, and if you're ready to run a marathon on the third day, then you're more than welcome to go. If you feel like you need to sleep, you can sleep. If you want to train, you can train. It's not my place to force you to do things you don't want to do. Besides, it wouldn't help you anyway."

Bolin stared hard at Suyin. He couldn't get a read on her, and he hated it. It made him angry, and he didn't know why.

"All I'll ask is that you stop in for your meals, whatever you and the staff decide they're going to be, and check in with me once in a while so I know you're not off rotting somewhere. Do you think that's fair?"

He did laugh that time, and the minute it came out he felt a little guilty. Still, he remembered only a few nights ago, when he lay against Opal and listened to everyone discussing him like he was completely incapable of making decisions for himself. He remembered thinking about how everything here would present the illusion of choice, and this certainly fit that bill nicely. Autonomy, sure, but only on Su's terms.

Having no choice, he said, "I guess."

By this time the airship had crossed over the mountain range that separated Zaofu from the rest of its province, and the city lights came into view. It was just as big as Bolin remembered it being, hundreds of buildings clumped into sections which normally were housed beneath enormous metal domes.

But the domes weren't there. Not completely, anyhow. It seemed that they were still in the process of being rebuilt.

"Welcome home, dear," Su said as she peeked out the window.

Bolin sighed, staring down. "You said I could jump off the domes. How am I supposed to do that if the domes aren't there?"

Su smiled and patted his shoulder as she stood. "I said you could jump. But I never said _when_."

He couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the condescending look she gave him.

"Come on. Let's find Pabu and get your things, and I'll show you to your room."

He followed.

The greetings when the airship touched down were as awkward as Bolin believed they'd be. Su's husband, Bataar, shook Bolin's hand cordially and welcomed him, but he was the only Beifong that bothered to show up. It was probably for the best, Bolin thought. He didn't feel up to talking anyway.

Su took him along the stone path that led to her home. It was familiar territory: Bolin had stayed here before. He'd stayed a few times, in fact. They walked past the training grounds for metalbending, past the pillars upon which rested hunks of raw meteorite, past the courtyard where the Red Lotus had once held Korra hostage, and it still bore a few scars from that fight.

He'd never been surprised by the luxury of Suyin's home: the Beifongs had always had money. But he was surprised at the scope of the room she opened for him. Every time he'd stayed in Zaofu before he'd been put in the same modest guest room with Mako, which was just large enough for two twin beds and some additional furniture to fit comfortably. This room, in contrast, was enormous. Everything about it was enormous from the bed to the chest of drawers to the desk in the corner, and it was all constructed from what looked to be expensive wood with hand-carved designs. The room itself seemed as large as his whole Republic City apartment.

At least he wouldn't be wanting for space.

"I hope you like it," Su said, and she motioned him inside.

Bolin wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, so he entered the room in silence and tossed his bag on the bed. Pabu jumped from his shoulder and burrowed sleepily into the comforter.

"I'll let you get settled in," Su said. "Are you hungry?"

He didn't look back at her when he said, "No."

The look on Su's face said clearly that she didn't like the answer, but she didn't argue. Instead, she said, "All right, then. I'm going to go get some dinner. If you change your mind, you're more than welcome to join me. I trust you remember your way around here."

"Yeah. Thanks," Bolin said feebly, but he didn't intend to join her.

Then Su left him by himself.

Bolin had brought so few items with him that it took virtually no time to unpack. He situated his clothes in the chest of drawers and slid his bag neatly under the bed, then sat down heavily, kicked off his boots, and dropped back onto the blankets. He had to come up with a plan of action here. He had to figure out how to get everyone off his case and get himself back to normal.

There was no question what he'd be doing for the first forty-eight hours: Sitting on his bed and hating his existence while all of Su's attendants fussed over him. No, he thought, and he pressed his hands against his forehead: That kind of thinking was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. He needed to think positive, but it was so hard.

He started over.

Two days. Two days of rest. Sleep as much as possible, he thought. Whenever there wasn't a person trying to talk to him, he'd be trying to sleep. It was the only way he'd stay sane being cooped up. And after those two days he didn't know _what_ he'd do. Explore Zaofu, probably, since he'd never been free to roam before. Maybe he'd try to find a quiet, secluded spot where he could disappear to when Su's overbearing mother routine got to be too grating.

It was already grating.

Bolin couldn't help a cry of frustration: No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to shake the negativity. It had gone with him everywhere, pervaded everything he did, and had overshadowed every decision and interaction he'd had since waking up from the collapse. If his visit to the South Pole had set him on the path to ruin, the collapse had pushed him over the edge. That made him mad, too, how an event that he couldn't even remember had perverted every aspect of his life. The building hadn't just crushed him, it'd squeezed every ounce of happiness and dignity out of him, too.

But at least he could think now, and that was a marked improvement in the long run.

Another sigh and Bolin pushed himself upright. He looked thoughtfully at Pabu, then stood. "Come on, Pabs, let's go."

Pabu jumped to Bolin's shoulder, and Bolin left. There were a few hours left to kill before his rest orders would be enforced. He figured he may as well spend them standing.

The first day of rest passed as Bolin imagined, between the awkward talks with Su and visits from all manner of strange people. The first person in his room had been Suyin's chef, an imposing-looking man who took a comical degree of pride in his work. He presented Bolin with a battery of questions ranging from likes and dislikes to allergies and everything beyond, which Bolin endured stoically. But when the chef began presenting elaborate menus, Bolin stopped him dead with a look. Apparently, Su hadn't made the situation clear, and for the first time Bolin had been forced to explain himself _for himself_ in clear terms: "I can't eat anything," he'd said, and it had taken an enormous amount of effort to force out the words. He felt so embarrassed that he couldn't even raise his eyes. He fidgeted like a scared little kid. "I can't eat unless you want me to throw it back up. I don't know why, so don't ask."

He'd expected the chef to judge him. He'd expected the chef to be disappointed, but the explanation seemed only to bolster him. The questions shifted focus: Cooked or uncooked? Savory or sweet? Vegetables? Proteins? Textures? Bolin didn't understand most of what he was being asked, and in the end had said a bit hotly, "Look, I don't care what you give me as long as it comes in a cup."

That had been the end of that discussion. The rest was decided without him by Su, which she explained later: Five to six meals a day, once every three hours beginning at eight in the morning. It wasn't a leisurely schedule, Bolin thought. Left to his own devices he didn't often get up until after nine or ten, but at least it was a schedule, and maybe a routine would prove some benefit.

A group of interior decorators arrived that afternoon, interrupting a wholly restful nap, and had arranged and rearranged the room four different ways before Bolin could find the words to argue. They asked him if he liked the furniture, if he liked the rug, if he liked color of the drapery. When he explained that he hadn't even realized there _were_ drapes, they laughed at him, and that made him angry, too.

In the end, very little was changed: He'd had them remove the fancy area rug that occupied the room's empty floor space and had them exchange the sheer window coverings for thick, dark fabrics that would block the sun for superior napping. They hadn't done it happily, he noted, but if he was going to spend hours upon hours sleeping here, he wanted it to be dark and quiet and cold. The last thing he'd had them do was bring a selection of pillows-he didn't care about color or style or size-and once they had delivered the items and left again, Bolin threw them on the floor in a corner for Pabu to nest in.

Su arrived that evening and took her dinner with him, a meal made only slightly awkward by the fact that they'd had to sit on his bed together knee to knee. It was made only slightly _more_ awkward by the fact that she was eating what looked to be a specially prepared meal and he was stuck with whatever gunk had been thrown together and liquefied. It was better than whatever they'd given him on Air Temple Island, though, and that came as a nice surprise.

The second day passed the same as the first, with all manner of people showing up at all times of the day to perform all kinds of menial tasks. A cleaner came through and picked up the laundry he'd left in a pile by the door. She left in a huff shortly after she tried to put Pabu's pillow fortress away: Pabu hadn't liked that much, and Bolin hadn't tried to stifle his laughter at her discomfort.

Su had saved the most awkward guest for last, Bolin supposed: the tailor. He'd never enjoyed being touched by strangers and now certainly proved no exception. Su had even taken it upon herself to stay and watch, which only added to Bolin's self-conscious quiet. He suffered in silence. If there was a bright side to her being there, it was that she provided answers to questions that Bolin never would have begun to be able to answer on his own, questions about fabrics and colors and accents and stitching. By the time the man left, Bolin's head was spinning. If Su had expected the hectic schedule to raise his spirits, she'd been horribly mistaken. If anything at all, it had exhausted him beyond reckoning, making a lift in mood impossible. He just didn't have the energy.

When Su didn't leave, Bolin stared questioningly at her. She smiled the same condescending, motherly smirk that she seemed to wear so often when in his presence and then, the grin evident in her voice, she asked, "How are you enjoying your stay so far?"

"The domes are looking more attractive every minute," Bolin said. He knew he'd sounded tired-he _was_ tired-but he'd sounded a little downcast, too. He'd been shooting for _blank_.

Su's smile dropped, leaving her forehead creased with worry. But even that fell away after a while, and she watched him with a look of interest. He wasn't sure how she could be interested. He was just sitting there scratching Pabu's ears.

After a while the silent staring became uncomfortable, and Bolin felt himself bristling again. He felt his face growing hot with embarrassment. He didn't like being watched like this. It made him angry. He looked at Su without bothering to try to hide it, and she seemed to shrink. "What?" He snapped. "Why are you _staring_ at me?"

"Because I was waiting for you to talk," Su replied cordially, if quietly.

"What am I supposed to say?" Bolin replied, still angry and now a little incredulous. Su stopped shrinking, but she didn't meet his gaze again. "What do you want me to say? Is there a script I missed somewhere?"

"That's not what I meant," Su said calmly. No matter how angry Bolin got, it never seemed to really ruffle her that much. He wondered how she could always stay so calm. He wondered how she could manage to keep a straight face through everything. "I meant that I was staying here in case you needed an ear, in case you'd come up with something you wanted to say. But it seems like you haven't." She stood, and the smile she put on seemed sad. It made Bolin feel guilty for lashing out at her. "My fault," Su continued, and she looked at him full in the face. The sadness had gone to her eyes, too. "I shouldn't push. I'm sorry."

Bolin took to stammering. "Su, listen, I-"

"It's okay, dear," she said, and now she was by the door. He just wanted to apologize before she left, but it didn't seem she was willing to give him the chance. "If you decide you want to talk, you know where to find me. And if you don't want to talk to me then there are dozens of other people around here who'd be more than happy to listen." She opened the door and sighed at it, then smiled back at him. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

She closed the door before he could protest, and again, Bolin hated himself for being so hot headed. All she had been doing was trying to help, everyone had been trying to help, and it seemed that the only way he repaid them all was by yelling at them and sabotaging the progress they helped him make. Heck, he sabotaged the progress he'd made on his own, too.

Full of frustration, he threw himself back on his pillows, stared at the wall, and waited for sleep to overtake him.

It took a precious long time for Bolin to fall asleep, and when he did it wasn't restful. He kept waking up between a series of strange, seemingly disconnected dreams, and he struggled after each to drift off again. Twice he dreamed of the lava ocean but managed to wake before anything too gruesome happened, and he wondered again exactly what it was all about. Then he dreamed of the day he'd been attacked by the combustion bender, of the explosions and the heat and the noise of the building giving way beneath him. And he didn't wake up when he fell in the dream like he normally did. Instead, the dream went black and he imagined being crushed. He could hear his body twist and crack beneath its weight, and when he finally woke, it took a few seconds before he could draw breath. His limbs had been heavy after that nightmare, and he'd had to get up and walk laps around the room for twenty minutes before he felt calm enough to lay back down.

He'd had other dreams, too, that were less terrifying and sat more in the realm of the strange. In one, he'd been in the kitchen at Air Temple Island and had eaten twice his bodyweight in Narook's seaweed noodles. Several took place in the hospital: Once he dreamed that he'd metalbent and woke up mildly disappointed by reality. In another, he dreamed that he'd been yelling at Lin and Tenzin as they sat by his bedside, though when he woke up he couldn't remember what he'd been so upset about. All he could recall was that he'd said something about a hog monkey. In still another dream he thought he'd been sleeping beside Opal in his hospital bed, but it turned out to be Korra in the end. When he woke from that one he felt an odd warmth in his stomach, and couldn't decide if it was because he missed Opal or because every occasionally, his dreams allowed him to entertain the impossible, if just for a minute or two. After all, there was no harm in imagination.

Bolin woke sleepy the next morning and took his time getting out of bed, but despite his grogginess he'd washed up, dressed, and made his appearance in the dining hall by Suyin's required eight o'clock. He downed his whatever-it-was without a word. He had no intention of joining her and Bataar for breakfast, but she said, "Have a seat," and he couldn't really argue.

He just stared at her, waiting.

"I figure you're going out for a while," Su said, "and that's completely fine. I just wanted to let you know a little bit in updates before you take off for the day. Do you have time?"

"It's not like I've got anywhere to be," Bolin said dryly.

"Good," Su replied, her mood undampened. "You'll have some new clothes in your room by this evening, Zhang said he had expedited the production-"

"Zhang," Bolin interrupted dumbly. "Who?"

"The tailor, dear. He was in your room feeling you up for an hour yesterday, I didn't imagine you'd forget so soon."

"Oh."

"At any rate, he's pulling out all the stops for you. I think it'd be nice if you could try things on after dinner." She paused, and Bolin nodded. What other choice did he have? When a mother said, _it would be nice if you did this thing_, it meant that you had to do the thing or she'd never let you live it down. Even without much of a mother he knew that. "Otherwise, if you decide you need somewhere to go or someone to talk to, there's our local acupuncturist and a general services physician in the area. You can ask a guard and they'll be able to give you directions. Of course, since you're a Beifong you won't have to pay..."

"I'm a what now?"

"A Beifong. I know you've been off your feet for a while but try to keep up."

"But, I'm not-"

"You may as well be. You're close enough as makes no real difference. And while you're in my house you're family anyway. At any rate, it'll be no charge for any services you request." She paused and she hummed a little bit, her eyes on the ceiling. Then she seemed to have a brainwave and looked at him again with purpose. "I figure you're going to be working on bending a little bit-or training or whatever you kids call it these days-and I have a couple of rules I'd like you to follow if it's not too much trouble. I don't care where you earthbend: You're free to work on that in the courtyard or out by the metalbending arena and I'm sure you can find a training partner somewhere. But if you're going to be lavabending I'd appreciate it if you could find a place somewhere out of the way, and once you pick a spot, keep with it. I don't need to tell you how hard it is to repair grounds that have been ruined by that sort of thing, and it can get expensive."

Bolin just nodded. He'd intended to find a secluded spot anyway, so adhering to Su's request really wasn't any big deal.

"Oh, and one more thing before you go," Su said as Bolin stood to leave. "The girls will be back here in about a week. That's what Tenzin told me before we left Air Temple Island. I haven't heard anything else, so I imagine they're still on schedule."

Again, he nodded.

"I'll let you know if anything else comes up. Otherwise, I'll see you back here for lunch."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good boy. Off with you now." She shooed him from the room playfully, and Bolin didn't argue. As he left he heard her call after him, "Have fun!"

He wasn't sure exactly how he'd have any fun. There was too much work to do.

As Bolin wandered about outside he began to realize just how huge Zaofu was. He'd never really explored the place, had never really _seen_ it outside of the path between a few notable locations. He could get from the airfield to Su's house and to the courtyard and to the radio tower, but those few things exhausted his knowledge of the city. He'd set out with every intention of finding a quiet spot, but now he was actually looking he had no idea where to start.

He meandered between buildings aimlessly, and after a time sat down in some strange garden on a bench overlooking a pond. It seemed like a public place, he thought, a park of some kind, but even if it was a private place nobody would likely mind if he just sat there. He didn't have much choice. Even the little bit of walking he'd just done had tired him out.

After a while, Bolin rose and set off again, more aware now of how out of shape he was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd exercised meaningfully. It would probably have been the morning Asami gifted him his shoulder brace, which, now that he thought about it, he'd never thanked her for. He'd worn the thing so often since then that he didn't even notice it anymore. It was like a second skin. He never took it off except for bathing, and even then, he'd forgotten about it once. He hadn't even removed it for Opal. And except for the time she had knocked him over, it had kept his shoulder in joint even when it had threatened to come out.

He made a mental note to thank Asami the next time he saw her.

Bolin walked until sometime around noon, an hour he recognized only by his stomach growling, and made his way in a straight line back to the Beifong estate. He sat for lunch and watched Bataar and Huan eat some kind of meat-filled pie with a slight sense of longing. Su entered the room just as Bolin was standing to leave, and she looked in every way harassed.

"What's wrong?"

Su looked for a long time at Bolin without speaking, like she was trying to think of what to say. Eventually she settled and stared at her folded hands. "Republic City was attacked," she said plainly, and Bolin sat back down immediately. Had he heard her correctly? "I just got off the phone with Lin," she continued, looking again at Bolin, "and it's bad news. I guess it happened the morning we left, but I haven't been near a radio and this is the first chance she'd had to contact us."

"Is everyone okay?" Bolin asked. It was a dumb question. She'd already have said something if any of their friends or relations had been hurt.

"Everyone on our end is fine," Su said. "But the city is going on lockdown. Lin said that she would leave instructions for the girls to come straight here when they return from their trip, so it looks like we'll have a full house a few days sooner than we thought."

"What happened?"

Su shook her head. "I didn't get much. Explosions over the course of the last three days. People have gone missing. People have been killed. Lin explained it as strikingly similar to what happened in Ba Sing Se."

Bolin blinked.

"I don't have any more information than that, really. Lin said she would contact me again later with more details." She accepted her lunch without acknowledging the cook, and tucked in at once. "Seems like Raiko is having a field day, though. He's requiring every firebender in the city to put their name on a list. I think it's a stupid idea, if you want to know the truth. It's just going to make things worse. People are going to become afraid of firebenders, they're going to associate them with the attacks, and if the government starts singling them out and accusing them of crimes they've never even thought to commit, well..." She left off.

All Bolin could do was stare at her. His knee-jerk reaction was to ask to go back home so that he could find some way to help, but he couldn't figure out how to suggest it. Su wouldn't allow it anyway, he knew. He wouldn't be any benefit to Lin or Tenzin. He wouldn't be a benefit to anyone.

Bolin sighed and looked at the table again. He'd just get in the way.

"Are you all right, dear?"

He nodded and said, "Fine," but he hadn't sounded fine. Before Su could question him further, he rose and walked purposefully toward the door, his head full of thoughts.

He had to get better. He had to get stronger. He had to figure out his bending. He had to learn control.

Bolin walked the opposite direction as he had earlier and was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Beifong compound lay remarkably close to the outer border of the city, or at least part of it did. He found a wide green area near where the dome ordinarily would have been, which was separated from the rest of the city by what must have been one of the last natural plots of trees left. Everything about Zaofu thus far had been manicured and planned. Everything had been man-made. But this place seemed oddly overgrown.

He liked it.

It took a while for him to settle in. With every intention of doing meditative work, he'd sat down in the middle of the clearing and folded his legs, but then he'd just stared at the ground in front of him. He couldn't get it out of his head that Republic City had been attacked. And more, the look on Su's face had meant something beyond what she was telling him. No doubt she'd be upset about the explosions with Wing and Wei still there among it all, but she hadn't just looked _upset_. She'd looked a little bit sick.

Now that he thought about it, Suyin hadn't looked so distressed even when he'd collapsed on her, and he'd been practically dead at that point. If no one had been hurt and no one had been killed, what could possibly have made her so upset? Certainly, she must care about Republic City, he thought, but the place had been attacked before and she'd never had such a serious reaction.

There must have been something else.

He shook the thought away. "Okay," he said to himself, "focus."

It'd been such a long time since he'd engaged his mind and body so purposefully that he felt for a moment like he didn't remember how. He closed his eyes, just as Korra had taught him, and tried as hard as he could to focus on the earth. He couldn't feel a thing. The connection wasn't there like it had been at home.

He kicked off his boots and drew his knees up to rest his feet flat on the ground. Then he laid back and covered his eyes. If he couldn't pick it up naturally, then he'd force himself to listen.

In the days since his breakdown Bolin hadn't given much thought to the strange sensations he'd begun to feel. And since Su had placed him on house arrest he'd barely been in contact with the ground at all, especially not ground that hadn't been overworked and reshaped by human hands. He hadn't felt much. But the minute he put his bare feet down he did.

There were dozens of faint vibrations whose rhythm could only equate to footsteps, the rumble of what must have been a car, and other more general noise that he couldn't distinguish from anything else. He imagined that if Korra or Asami or Opal had been nearby he'd have been able to feel them, too, the same way he had those few days ago.

For the first time, he focused on himself. It took great effort, but after a time Bolin managed to pick up on his own movement, his own breathing, his own deadened vibrations coming through the ground and into the soles of his feet. It was a kind of self-awareness he'd never experienced before, and it felt wholly strange. Where he'd been able to register fear, anxiety, and nervousness in the people around him, he couldn't discern anything in himself. He was there-he could feel himself from a purely objective standpoint-but there wasn't anything beyond that. He couldn't feel anything but his own controlled breathing.

He opened his eyes and stared up when the truth of that hit him. He couldn't feel himself, not the same way he'd felt the others. He couldn't register something that didn't exist. He couldn't feel things that weren't there. He didn't feel anything because _he_ _didn't feel anything_.

Bolin wondered at what point he'd gone so numb. Everything for as long as he could remember had been dull. His emotions had been shadows of what they once were, as if his body was going through the motions but his head and heart weren't keeping up. Except when it came to being angry. He felt that keenly enough. And there had been the night he'd thrown up and fainted, the night he'd broken down completely. He recalled unbridled terror in the seconds before he'd fallen, a feeling of impending doom in which he'd been certain he was going to die.

With a shake of his head, Bolin got back to his feet and dug his toes into the ground. Meditation over, he thought glumly. He didn't want to get caught up in too much self-reflection: It would only make him feel worse.

On a normal day, he and Korra would have started practice, maybe with a gentle spar. But this wasn't really a normal day, and he felt a little bit self-conscious as he went about assuming the first in the long series of waterbending forms.

It surprised him how much he remembered, but then he'd done this same routine dozens of times now and had always been quick on the uptake. He went through twice, just to be sure he remembered all the transitions, and then shook his hands out. It made no sense to practice all these forms if he never applied them, and that was the one thing he and Korra had never gotten around to doing.

It was time to earthbend.

Bolin felt happier than he should have when the earth responded to his command. First, he pulled one small slab from the ground, tossed it aside, then pulled another slightly larger, then tossed it aside as well. He raised and lowered pillars and squares and chunks of everything from dirt to stone, and even managed to do different things with each hand the same as he'd always been able to.

He tempered his excitement without meaning to: Of course he remembered how to do it, he thought, he'd been earthbending his whole life. It was a little childish to be so happy about doing things he'd been able to do since he was ten.

Eventually it came time to lavabend, and this gave Bolin pause. How could he forget what happened last time in the cell with the combustion bender? Sure, he'd been able to liquefy the stone and manipulate it, but it had taken so much effort and in the end, he felt certain that the lavabending was what pushed him over the edge to fainting on Asami. Again, she'd been right: Even on a good day, even in peak physical form, lavabending took a lot out of him. It was exhausting work to be sure. On a bad day, it had nearly killed him.

But there was no getting around it. He couldn't call himself "better" until he could do everything he could before he was attacked, with at least the same degree of skill as he once had. That was all there was to it. Even if it meant he'd faint again, he was going to push himself no matter what.

A tiny voice in his head told him it was a stupid thing to do.

He ignored it.

The same as he'd done in the combustion bender's cell, Bolin widened his stance and focused intently on the ground beneath his feet. For a second he stared down, two distinct worries in the back of his mind: Would he be able to melt the rock? And was it smart to be doing so barefoot? With a sigh and a shrug, he rolled his shoulders, clapped his hands together, and drove downward. It was the only way to create lava standing still. It was the best way for him to start. No way he'd be able to propel himself upward, slam himself down, and rend the earth that way. He didn't have that much strength. He wasn't feeling that ambitious.

He pushed. The earth resisted. He pushed harder. It resisted more.

The lava wouldn't come.

Frustrated, Bolin stood straight and paced. Not so long ago, this would be the point where he'd be giving himself some kind of pep talk, he knew, but he didn't feel much like encouragement. It wasn't the need to practice that was driving him so much as it was the need to prove to himself that he wasn't completely ruined. Not physically, anyway.

He stopped pacing and looked at the ground again. Once more, he widened his stance, pulled at his pants legs, and stared down. Focus. He just had to focus. He just had to feel the earth. He just had to connect.

Another deep breath and Bolin closed his eyes, concentrating the whole of his mind on the soles of his feet, on feeling the vibrations of the earth as he moved. With renewed and intense focus, he thrust his fingertips earthward with all the strength he could find.

The earth opened, a small section liquefied, and a surge of true happiness shot through Bolin's middle that numbed the sudden drop in his energy.

He wasn't _completely_ ruined.

Another hour of opening foot-wide pools of lava and Bolin retired for dinner. Su scolded him for skipping his mid-afternoon meal, which he'd missed unintentionally, and marched him back to his room immediately upon finishing _two_ cups of whatever it was they were feeding him: He'd still not bothered to ask. In his elation at lavabending he'd completely forgotten that he'd told Su that he would try on his new clothes.

"All right, Mr. Delinquent, there they are," Su said when she opened the door, and it seemed she was only half joking. She gesticulated at two piles folded neatly at the foot of his bed. Pabu was sleeping soundly atop one of them. "Let's go."

"I'm not a delinquent," Bolin argued coldly. He felt too tired to temper himself, so he walked to the bed, patted Pabu on the head, and picked up the first article. "I just got distracted," he continued as he scrutinized the garment. It was exactly what he'd expect from Zaofu: A dark green, robe-like covering with metal adornments. Just from looking at it, it seemed too small. "How am I supposed to wear this?" He asked. He held it aloft for Su to see.

"Just put it on. The measurements were right. Zhao double and triple checked them."

With a sigh and a slight hesitation, Bolin did as he was told. He'd never liked changing in front of people, much less his girlfriend's mother. More awkward still, he'd never had to _try on_ clothes before. Mako had always overseen that sort of thing, and he'd just thrown Bolin clothes from wherever he could get them. Usually he'd erred on the side of too large, and Bolin had had to grow in to most of his things.

He wouldn't fit in this if he grew half an inch.

"It looks nice," Su said as she poked at him. She tugged at the sleeves and the neck, pulled at the seams. "How does it feel?"

"Weird." Bolin was being truthful, but he didn't know if he was more disturbed by the gown-like overcoat or the fact that Su was scrutinizing every inch of him. He wasn't sure he liked any of it, and the minute she stepped away he pulled it off and tossed it on the bed.

"Well, that's just part of it," Su said. She plucked Pabu from the other pile and said, "Try on the rest."

Pabu had been napping atop what comprised the lion's share of his new wardrobe, clothes that seemed entirely normal when compared to what he'd just modeled. But it took only the shirt, a high collared dark green number that was both sleeveless and entirely more form-fitting than what he was accustomed to, to make him feel uncomfortable again. When Su looked at him and said, "And the bottoms?" he felt downright embarrassed.

"I'm not taking my pants off in front of you."

"My loss," she said, and when Bolin glared at her she smiled wide. "Fine. I'll turn around."

And she did.

The ensemble felt better than the shirt alone. Everything aside from the top had just enough bag to be comfortable, and it all made sense when Su suggested that everything was supposed to be worn together, overcoat and all. An undershirt couldn't be too loose if it was to be worn beneath a robe.

Again, she started poking at him, and Bolin couldn't help but wonder if she treated her own sons this way. But she seemed satisfied, if her smirk was to be trusted.

"I still don't see why it's got to be so tight," Bolin complained as she walked around behind him. He could feel her eyeing him. "And you're a dirty old lady, you know that?"

"Dirty old lady or not, I need to make sure they fit," Su replied smartly. "And they're tight because I want to be able to see you and make sure you're not dropping any more weight." Bolin was genuinely surprised when she didn't poke him in the rear. "Why didn't you put these on?"

He rounded on her, confused. In her hands, she held a pair of metal vambraces.

"Don't you like them?"

"I don't know what they are."

"Arms out," Su commanded, and he held out his arms. Then she clapped the metal over his wrists like a pair of manacles. She smiled the genuine smile of a proud mom. "Now you're a real member of the metal clan."

"I can't metalbend."

Su shrugged. "Lavabending is good enough, I think."

"Great."

"Don't sound so excited, sweetheart. It's not like you're _living_ here or anything." She made for the door. "Best stay in the rest of the night, it's getting late, but it's up to you. We'll see you bright and early."

All Bolin could offer in reply was a weak, fake grin. When Su had gone, he fell backward onto the bed, and Pabu came to start sniffing him and licking the metal bracers. Bolin picked him up and held him. "What do you think, Pabu? Do you like it?"

Pabu chittered. He sounded happy, but Bolin didn't feel the same. He lowered Pabu down and the fire ferret nestled on his chest. If it would make Su happy and get her off his back, he'd wear the clothes. Except for the overcoat. That wasn't going to happen in his lifetime, especially not if he'd be lavabending. He'd probably catch it on fire.

Bolin didn't stay in that night. After the rooms around him seemed to have gone quiet he left again, Pabu on his shoulder, and wandered back to his quiet place to lavabend some more, tired or not. He kicked off his boots and stayed there for hours, liquefying the rock, solidifying it again, liquefying it again. He felt surprisingly mobile in his new clothes, even with the tight shirt and weird metal things on his arms.

He tried several times to pull the lava from the earth, to manipulate it the way Korra had showed him she did with water, but it didn't respond the same as the water had. It was too thick. It didn't flow as readily. But before he tired himself out completely he'd managed to pull a tendril from the ground and cast it about three feet in front of him: The closest thing to a water whip he'd been able to manage.

Eventually he flopped onto the ground, tired, and stared up. There should've been domes there, he thought, but he didn't really mind. He could see stars. There weren't as many as he imagined he'd be able to see in the middle of nowhere, but it was more than Republic City could offer. It was altogether relaxing, and by the time he rose to head back home he'd gone completely thoughtless, and he slept heavily and dreamlessly.

Next day he rose earlier than required, was awkwardly complimented on his new clothes by Bataar, and spent the whole of his free time attempting to lavabend in his quiet place. He didn't think it remotely strange that he didn't see Su at all. She was probably busy being a newly elected Earth Nation governor.

He made progress that day, and it was progress he could be proud of. Having spent hours upon hours pulling tendrils of lava from the ground and attempting to toss them, he managed to gain some distance. He could whip the lava a couple yards by the time he was through. And more, he'd had a profound realization halfway through his day: He'd need to learn entirely new ways to pull the lava from the ground. The incorporation of waterbending forms required more mobility and fluidity than normal earthbending ever allowed for. He needed to be able to liquefy the rock on the move.

Bolin began toying with ways to transfer his energy into the earth. He tried it with his feet, with his knees, with his elbows, and he tried different motions with his hands, but none of them felt particularly useful and some of them were so weak that they hadn't produced lava at all. He stumbled on the answer by mistake in a moment of blind frustration, when he swung his arm low to scoop a rock from the ground to chuck in anger. He needed to lift the earth the same way he'd scoop sand, the same way he'd flick up a pebble. He'd need to go underhand or sidearm.

It took hours, but in the end it worked, and by the midnight Bolin could sweep his right hand over the ground, pulling up stone that liquefied as it moved like he was splashing water in a pool, and using the technique he'd doubled the length of his lava whip.

He couldn't do it left-handed, though. Not yet.

That night, Bolin went to bed feeling more smug and self-satisfied than he'd felt in weeks.

The third day he slept in later than he'd intended and dealt with a healthy but motherly scolding from Su, who threatened to have a housekeeper wake him up at the crack of dawn if he missed another meal. He endured her admonishment quietly, his face in his cup, and then when she had finished, he said flatly, "Are you done?"

This seemed to set Su back. He hadn't meant it to come out so full of attitude. She didn't say anything.

"I'm going to go," Bolin said. The sarcasm had gone. He felt a little ashamed now. He stood up to leave and walked to the door, but before he exited he turned back, eyes on the ground, and said, "I'm sorry to snap. I'm just tired."

It was the truth and he knew it. He hadn't had the stamina to have treated the last couple of days as he had, and it seemed to have caught up with him. But when he thought on how far he'd come and how surprisingly successful he'd been at blending waterbending and lavabending, he swelled a little bit.

He spent the rest of the morning napping with Pabu. Then he spent the early afternoon at his quiet place sitting on the ground barefoot and feeling the earth rumbling. He didn't have to meditate to clear his mind; he just had to sit there. And it wasn't that his mind had cleared-it hadn't, truly-but he'd been able to focus on single thoughts that he worked through in turn. Through it all, he kept reminding himself that he wasn't broken, and for a little while he actually believed it.

Bolin returned that evening and spent another hour sitting. This time Pabu had come along for the walk, and Bolin watched him jumping around in the trees. It was the liveliest he'd seen Pabu in weeks, and he wondered if it was the result of his own improvement. Maybe Pabu was happy. And if Pabu could be happy, maybe Bolin could be happy, too.

He stopped himself there, unwilling to allow his brain to contradict him. If he stayed on that optimistic train of thought for too long, he knew he'd just reason his way out of it and end up depressed again. Better to leave it alone and enjoy it while he could.

To keep himself from thinking too much he stood and took to bending. He opened a wide pool and worked at it gently, pulling and pushing the lava into gently rolling waves. It was the same as Korra had taught him to do. She had explained it clearly: The best way to learn to control the liquid was to start small, to manipulate it in the ground, and then draw it out.

He played with the lava for a while before cooling the ground and practicing generation. Again, he swept his fingers low, and as he pulled them along, the ground rose, liquefied, and flew the same as it had the night prior. He practiced holding the lava aloft, which proved more difficult than he thought it would, and he nearly burned himself twice. Then he practiced whipping the lava forward, casting it over his head, pulling it behind him. This he did with relative ease, as it didn't require him to keep the stuff stationary. It seemed easy to control if he kept it moving.

It was well after sundown when he felt Su approaching, and he noted this with surprise. He'd not felt anybody in a few days, but there hadn't really been anyone around. And even when there were people, he'd not been so in tune with the earth. More, Su had been leaving him well enough alone since he'd come off bed rest. She hadn't seemed to have wanted to bother him, and he imagined that she would've continued leaving him alone if whatever she wanted now wasn't important. She had no real business tracking him down, otherwise. He wondered what she wanted.

Bolin dropped the lava to the ground and turned to face her as she approached. He didn't say anything. She didn't look quite right.

"Hello, Bolin," she said, and she forced a smile. He noted a stiffness about her. Through his bare feet, he felt her nerves. They were the same as the night he'd collapsed on her, except now his feet weren't on her thighs. "I thought you might be out here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"Oh, just that it's a nice place," Su said thoughtfully. She pulled a pillar of rock from the earth and sat atop it. "You don't need to stop on my account."

Bolin hadn't told anyone what he'd been doing or how he'd been practicing lavabending. As far as he understood, Korra was the only person who knew he'd been trying waterbending techniques. "It's okay," he said, and he cooled the rock at his feet. "I can take a break."

"Maybe I want to watch," Su said happily. "I think it's neat."

"It's not supposed to be neat," Bolin said dryly. He wasn't sure why she'd been irritating him so much lately. She shouldn't have been, but all the same there were little things about her, little things she did, that infuriated him. If anything, he knew he should be concerned about the look on her face. "What do you want?"

Again, he hadn't meant the words to come out so rudely.

"The girls will be here tomorrow morning," Su said, but her nerves didn't calm. "I talked to Lin again after dinner."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

Bolin threw his arms wide in a gesture of welcome, but his posture was altogether hostile. "Are you going to tell me what she said?"

"She said that the girls are on their way, simple as that. They arrived at Air Temple Island before noon and set back out almost immediately. They should be here sometime tomorrow morning if they don't stop. Oogi flies faster than an airship."

"Okay," Bolin said, his dissatisfaction obvious. "What else is there?"

"What do you mean?"

"What else is going on?" There was no hiding his frustration now. He'd given up trying to temper it. "You've been all shifty around me for the last two days. What's going on?"

"I didn't see you at all yesterday," Su replied flippantly.

"Were you avoiding me?"

"No."

This shut Bolin up. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her curiously. She was good at lying. To any onlooker, she would've seemed completely at ease, but Bolin knew differently. He could feel differently. She couldn't hide it from him, and the fact that she was trying to hide it made him even more angry. "Then what?"

"You ought to drop the attitude," Su said. "It's not polite."

"And you've got room to talk about being impolite."

"More than you do."

It took everything Bolin had to keep himself from blowing up. He forced himself to think of the way he'd felt after he'd blown up at Su the first time, the way he'd felt when he'd blown up at Korra on several occasions. He always felt guilty after the fact.

He could control his bending again, now he had to control himself.

"Look," he said in a very measured tone, "I'm going to ask you once, and I'm going to ask you plainly… Why are you afraid of me?"

"What?" Su exclaimed with the tiniest, most disbelieving laugh. "What are you talking about?"

"I can feel you. You're nervous. Why?" Bolin wasn't laughing. He didn't even smile. There was nothing funny here.

Su leaned forward and dropped her elbows onto her knees. Bolin didn't miss the glance she shot at his feet. "You never told me about that. What's going on?"

"You're deflecting."

"You're smart."

"Did you come out here just to bother me? Because I've got better things to do than try to get you to talk to me straight."

Su shifted uncomfortably on her seat of earth and folded her hands in her lap again. She spoke bluntly. "I wanted to talk to you about Opal."

It was Bolin's turn to be surprised. "What?"

"About Opal," Su said again. She still felt nervous even if she didn't look it. "Since she'll be back tomorrow."

"What about Opal? Is she okay? Did something happen?"

"No, no. Nothing happened, she's all right. I wanted to discuss living arrangements with you."

Bolin said nothing, but the look on his face must have conveyed his every thought.

"I talked with Bataar and we decided it would be a good idea for the two of you to stay together."

"Stay together…"

"Yes. You can move into her room or she can move into yours. Either way is fine."

"That's awfully open minded of you," Bolin said. His anger had given way to surprise. "Why? What's in it for you?"

"Ah, you caught me," Su smiled. "I'll admit that my motive isn't entirely pure. I want Opal to stay with you so she can keep an eye on you and help make sure you're taking care of yourself."

Bolin bristled again. The anger mounted.

"I think it's for the best. So does Bataar. So did Lin."

That last statement only made things worse. "You talked to _Lin_ about this?"

"I did. She cares about you just as much as I do."

Bolin laughed derisively.

"I wish you'd stop that."

"Why? You say stupid things and I'm _going_ to laugh at you."

"I'm being serious."

"Fine," Bolin snapped. It was getting harder and harder to hold back now. He felt wholly indignant. He felt offended. It wasn't her place to discuss his private matters with Lin of all people. "But what have I done that's making you think I'm not taking care of myself? What have I done that makes you think I need that kind of supervision? Haven't I already proven that I'm not going to hurt myself?"

Su just watched him. Bolin couldn't be sure if she was too afraid to say anything, but the tirade had started and he couldn't stop himself.

"What do I have to do to _please_ you people? Seriously! I've jumped through every hoop you've put in front of me and it's still not good enough? It's ridiculous, Su! I'm not a child! I don't need a babysitter!"

Bolin could feel her nervousness again, it had come back even stronger than before, but Su spoke evenly. "You're making assumptions, dear. I don't think you need a babysitter either. I'm not worried that you're going to hurt yourself. Well, outside of lavabending without shoes on: That's probably a stupid move. But you've been pushing yourself."

"_Of course_ I've been pushing myself!"

"Let me rephrase: You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to pace yourself."

"I spent the whole morning asleep!"

"And you shouldn't have had to." Su sighed and looked at the sky. "And there's more. Right now, I know you're upset and you've got every right to your feelings. But you're being irrational, and that's what's worrying me. It was what I was worried about to begin with. It's what I've been worried about all along. I thought two days of rest would be enough to get your feet under you, but I guess I underestimated your drive. I know you've been out here every second you've been awake. I don't know what you've been doing, I can't wager a guess at that outside of _bending_, but you're not resting and you're still unstable. I think that having Opal near you will be a good thing. She can be your voice of reason."

Again, Bolin just stared. It felt like he'd been slapped in the face. "So, you want Opal to tell me when to work and when to quit?"

"I suppose, if that's how you want to look at it."

"And the reason you're nervous is because I'm _acting irrationally_?" Bolin couldn't disguise his disbelief.

"Yes."

"You're lying."

Su's eyes went wide. "Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter?"

She stayed very quiet, and again dropped her elbows onto her knees. She looked curious now, startled and curious, and all the other worry seemed to have gone. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I don't know! But I know! I can _feel _it. And I'm tired of everyone tiptoeing around me and lying to me!"

"Oh, dear."

"Stop saying that!" Bolin roared. Then he gave a cry of frustration and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He'd let it go again. He'd let the anger get the best of him, and he hated himself for it.

He dropped cross-legged to the ground and kept his face in his hands. He didn't want to look at Su anymore. He didn't want to talk to her. All she was doing was making things worse. But she didn't know that, or she didn't pick up on it, because she stood and approached him cautiously, then sat herself down in front of him. They were knee to knee again, and it was just as awkward as it had been the first time.

"Hey," she said softly, "you want to talk to me here?" She put her hand tenderly on his knee, and Bolin was filled once again with the sudden urge to hit her. "Oh, you're shaking! Are you all right?"

"No!"

"Bolin, will you please talk to me?" Su sounded like she was begging. She sounded the same way Opal sounded when she was pleading with him. "You haven't talked to anyone, and there's clearly something going on with you beyond what you've said. What's this _feeling_ thing you keep talking about? Your feet?"

"Yes!"

"Calm down," Su cooed. She thumbed at his knee tenderly. "I didn't come out here to upset you."

"I need you to stop touching me." He'd growled the words the same as he had that horrible night. He'd sounded scary and threatening.

Su jerked her hand away from him. "I-I'm sorry."

"Whenever you touch me I want to hit you. And whenever you talk to me all caring like that I want to hit you and I don't know why. I've never wanted to hit someone before. Okay, that's a lie. I've wanted to hit people before, I've wanted to hit lots of people, but never people who were trying to help me." Bolin paused and breathed deep. A cold, hard lump had grown in his throat and he couldn't swallow it down, so he just sat there staring at his calves and waiting for it to go away. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Su. I don't understand what's going on in my own head anymore. I get upset so easily. I get angry so easily and I don't know why! Nothing you've said or done since I got here was meant to make me mad, but every time I look at you I just..." He stopped again in the middle of his thought, and the lump grew. His eyes felt hot again, and he was ashamed. He'd been holding himself together so well lately. He'd managed to push it all down. But now he sounded desperate. Why was it coming back? Why wasn't Su saying anything?

"I don't like what's happening to me," Bolin continued. "I get mad and I blow up, and then I feel so horrible about it that I don't want to talk to anyone-I don't even want to _look_ at anyone-and that makes everyone more worried and then they pry even more and that makes me even more angry and then I blow up _again_ and... I'm not _myself_ anymore! I don't know where I went! And I've been trying to distract myself with figuring out this waterbending nonsense, but I can't seem to do it and nobody here can help me. I can't even protect myself! I can barely _bend_ and all this horrible stuff is happening everywhere. How am I supposed to help? I'm completely worthless!"

"No, you're not."

He couldn't stifle the derisive laugh. "Right. And on top of all of that I've got all these weird feelings that I can't understand, and that makes me angry, too, because I know that everyone is lying to me and telling me things to make me feel better. Oh, I don't even know! Maybe they're telling me things to make _themselves_ feel better, because all anyone does around me is feel nervous and afraid, and then I blow up at them and prove them right. And now I'm blowing up at you again, and I don't even know why. Because I thought you were lying to me. How do I know that? I _don't_, and I don't know why I think I do. I'm not a truth seer. But I can feel how scared you are. You make the ground move. It's not a lot, but it's enough that I can feel it, especially when I'm in tune and when I've been focusing really hard, and it's confusing. I can't even feel _myself_ like that. But I can feel you, and I can feel Opal, and Asami and Korra and everybody else. But I can't feel _myself_."

He stopped talking and closed his eyes. He'd not meant to say so much, but it had all fallen out, and it felt like even more was building up. It came in waves, and when they crested he couldn't hold it in. All he knew was that Su was touching him again, she was rubbing his arm, and this time he didn't feel like hitting her at all. He just felt sad.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," he repeated lamely, but quieted when he heard the shiver in his words.

"You were hurt," Su said. "That's all."

Bolin shook his head. "I'm not _hurt_," he said, and halfway through the thought he faltered, then whimpered, "I'm _broken_."

He wasn't sure what he expected Su to say to that, but he'd expected her to say _something_. She was deathly silent for a long time, and Bolin couldn't bring himself to look at her. He couldn't entertain the thought. All he could do was sit there and try to hold in the tears, and he did so with more success than he thought he'd have. His face had gone all wet but he kept his voice firm.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Bolin said, uncomfortable in the quiet. "I'm sorry I've been a jerk. I'm sorry I didn't thank you for the clothes and for the room and for taking care of me."

Su sighed. She wasn't nervous anymore, like some maternal instinct had kicked in and strengthened her resolve. She was even now. She was level. "I'm so glad you're talking to me," she said after a while, and then she threw her arms around him and squeezed him so tight that it hurt his shoulder, but he didn't move. He just sat there impassively and willed himself to relax. "I asked around, and everyone I talked to said that you've been stone silent. I'm so glad you're talking to me, even if you do yell."

He held his breath so he wouldn't sob on her shoulder.

"Sweetie, I don't know what's going on with you either, but we can make it better if we try. These kinds of things always work out in the end."

Bolin shook his head again. He wondered if he was making her shoulder wet.

"It's only been a couple of weeks," Su said. "Nobody ever expected you to bounce back so quickly. Nobody expected you to be on your feet, let alone lavabending and... And waterbending? It's okay if you have some hiccups, Bolin. We expect you to have them. I'll say it again, you were hurt, and you were hurt _badly_, but you're not _broken_, okay?" She pulled away from him and held him firm by the shoulders, but he kept staring down. He felt stupid. "Look at me. You're not broken, do you understand? _You're_ _not broken_."

"I understand you," he replied, "but I don't believe you."

He expected Su to argue or scold him, but she didn't. "Can you explain to me what's going on with your feet?"

The question had rather blindsided him. It was so scientific, so objective. "I don't know how to explain it. I should've said something earlier, but... I guess I didn't notice it. I didn't think it was important." Bolin paused and wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands. The metal bracers scraped his nose. He'd forgotten they were even there, but when he remembered it made him feel worse. Here Su had invited him into her family and he'd exploded on her.

"When does it happen? How?"

"Well... It's embarrassing. Korra and I-well-she... I..." Another enormous sigh. He wiped at his face again and sniffled. "I asked her to teach me how to waterbend. I said that but I didn't explain. I kept having these nightmares about lavabending, I _still_ have them, and they're awful. I can't control my bending and it hurts people. I got scared and wanted to learn how to control it better so I asked Korra to teach me how to waterbend, so that I could try and... Oh, it's so stupid. It was a stupid idea. I _must_ be brain damaged."

Su shushed him and rubbed his arms.

"She and I started meditating every morning. Every single morning I was on Air Temple Island that I could get out of the bed, we were at the pavilion. And we stayed there for _hours_, even when I fell asleep and couldn't think straight. And I tried really hard to get it right, and then it just clicked. Something clicked. I kept trying to listen to what the earth was telling me, and one second it wasn't saying anything at all and the next second it was telling me too much. When I tune in to it, it's too much. I can feel everything, and I don't know how to filter it out and it makes me upset. I can feel people moving around when they're nearby. It's how I knew-" he faltered again and swallowed hard. He wouldn't cry. He couldn't cry now. Su could help him if he explained himself. And if she couldn't, she'd find someone who could. "It's how I knew Asami and Korra were with me when I fainted that day with the combustion bender. And it's how I knew they were afraid, and it's how I knew Korra was angry. It's how I knew Opal had showed up, and how I knew that no matter what kind of straight face you kept that night when you sat with me, you were terrified. It's how I know you're afraid right now and how I know you've been nervous around me. And I just want people to be honest with me, because I know they're upset, but nobody will admit to it. They lie straight to my face!"

"Oh, dear."

"Stop saying that!"

He did sob this time. He hated that phrase so much.

"Even with your shoes on?" Su asked gently. "You can feel it even with your shoes on?"

"Sometimes."

"Wow. And when you think someone is lying to you, why do you think that?"

"Because they get nervous. Their..." he stopped to think of the word, and flailed lamely for a minute. "I guess the vibrations change. I don't know how, and I don't know how to explain it. It's like they tense up, even if it's just a little bit, and I can feel the change in the earth."

"Oh."

Bolin looked at Su dead straight, tears or no tears. "You _were_ lying to me, weren't you?" he asked. "A while ago? You were lying."

Su nodded. "I was."

At the admission, Bolin dropped his head weakly back into his hands. "I don't even know what's happening any more. I just want it to stop."

"Oh, no, don't wish for that." Su sounded happy, but Bolin didn't look to see. "You've got something special, and you should hang on to it. You might not be a truth seer, but you've got something special. Maybe it's the same kind of something that lets you lavabend. You never know."

"I doubt it."

"Quit being so negative," Su snapped, and Bolin did look at her that time. The tone of her voice had startled him into looking up. Her brow had furrowed. She looked so parental. "I mean it, now. You're never going to feel better about yourself if you keep beating yourself up." Her expression softened. "Now, what's this about waterbending?"

"I was trying to learn. I mean," Bolin paused, stammering. "I know I can't _waterbend_ because, you know, I'm not the Avatar. But I figured if Korra taught me some of the forms I could try to adapt them to lavabending."

"That's brilliant," Su said brightly. "And how is it going?"

Bolin shrugged. "I can water whip. Or lava whip or whatever you want to call it."

"Will you show me?"

Bolin's face screwed up. "What?"

"Show me. I want to see it."

She didn't give him the chance to object. She stood and grabbed him by the left wrist, then tugged him as forcefully as she dared to his feet and gesticulated at the ground. She looked expectant.

"I... I don't know..."

"See, you're being bashful now. I want to see it and I won't take no for an answer."

Bolin stared at her for a few more seconds before he looked at the ground and mumbled, "Are you sure you're not going to call me stupid for lavabending barefoot?"

"I never called you stupid, sweetheart. And I'll never call you stupid because you're not. Now, show me what you've got."

Sheepishly, he walked her through the whole thing. He described every step of the process, from scooping the rock from the earth and melting it as it came forth to the synchronous flicks of his wrists that set the liquid to motion. And then he performed the action, whipped the lava twenty feet forward, and when he stood straight again he jammed his hands into his pockets and blushed at the ground.

"And that's it," he said. Then he added a lackluster, "Ta da."

"That's incredible," Su said. She sounded somehow breathless. She sounded impressed. Bolin hadn't ever heard such a tone from her. She'd sounded absolutely flabbergasted. "And how long did it take you to figure that out?"

"Couple days when I really set to it," Bolin replied. He sniffled, kept his eyes on the ground, and toed at the dirt.

"Incredible."

"You don't have to flatter me."

"It's not flattery when it's honest. Can't you tell?"

Bolin could tell. There was nothing insincere about her, there were no vibrations that indicated she was anything other than purely pleased.

"You ever tried icing?"

"Icing? Like, cake? Because you know I can't eat."

"I don't know what it's called!" Su cried excitedly. "I'm an earthbender, you know, and I'm not half talented enough to know the names of these things. You know that thing waterbenders do, where they throw water at people and freeze it halfway there? You know that?"

"Yeah."

"Have you ever tried it?"

Bolin thought on the matter and decidedly said, "No."

"Oh, try it! You can try it, can't you?"

With as excited as Suyin was, Bolin couldn't say no.

For a while the two stayed in the copse while Bolin attempted every waterbending move Su could contrive. He failed at most of them, but on the twelfth try managed to solidify the lava he'd whipped while it was still in the air, and a dozen shards of sharp obsidian rock lodged themselves in a tree across the way, setting the bark to smoldering and startling Pabu so badly he'd fallen off his branch. At that, Su had given a whoop of excitement, but Bolin had just stared at it, dumbfounded by his success. He never would have thought to throw the earth that way.

Eventually, Bolin exhausted himself. The transition from energetic bending to nearly incapable of walking happened alarmingly fast. Still excited, Su collected Pabu, wrapped Bolin's arm around her shoulder, and half-carried, half-walked him back to his room in a moment he wouldn't remember next day. All he would remember was that her excited babbling sounded more like something he'd hear out of Ikki than out of a grown woman. She sat him on the bed, and he lay down with Pabu curled at his stomach. He was asleep before she'd closed the door, all her lies forgotten in the moment.


	25. Betrayal

Mako was surprised by how well everything seemed to have gone. After his meeting with Beifong, he and Yaozhu had high-tailed it back to their Society-owned inn and met back up with Jing and Fa who, outside of some wounded pride and a bit of anger, ended up completely okay. When they inquired as to where Mako and Yaozhu had been, Mako remained quiet. When they pressed the matter, he pulled rank.

Their remaining time in Republic City was spent assisting with the attacks that had been planned. Mako made certain that they were nearby for those that were within a reasonable distance, and while Jing and Fa and Yaozhu assisted in taking hostages as they had been ordered, Mako helped the wounded and set unattended captives free.

It had been hard work to do it so stealthily, but somehow he managed.

Though Mako was exhausted by the time he boarded the ship, he still did what he was ordered to do as far as managing captives: There would be no sense blowing his cover now. He'd been charged with restraints, and so he went slowly down six long lines of sad-looking people and shackled them to their benches, and when they begged him to free them, he didn't say a word. Then he retired to his bunk with a bad taste in his mouth. He didn't like what he'd been doing, but he'd also had no choice. If there was any consolation, it was that he'd helped at least three dozen people escape captivity, but now that he was surrounded by hostiles again he couldn't act so daring.

When the ship set off, Mako felt he could rest easy. Beifong had clearly understood his message, as they left port without a single hiccup. There were no boardings by customs officials, and the only trade inspection they'd had to endure was the standard protocol for every ship that made berth or departed from the south dock. It was a rudimentary procedure, something done for show more than for purpose, and they'd squeaked through without difficulty.

Mako didn't come out of the bunk until well after they'd hit open water, and even then he did so only for two meals. Two meals was all he could stomach in the filthy galley and with everything else on his mind. Otherwise he passed the time lying on his bed, staring at the low ceiling, and thinking of his next course of action.

The first thing he would have to do would be to report on the success-or potential success-of his rendezvous with the Triad boss. He sorely hoped that their scuffle upon exiting hadn't soured the deal, but knew that if the Triads functioned as they always had, the deal would be fine. If anything, the fight would've proven the society to be a substantial force, especially considering that four men had taken on twelve or more without sustaining damage. And really, it had been two on twelve: Jing and Fa had turned tail and run at the first opportunity, but their retreat had been on Mako's orders so he couldn't be too upset.

After he'd briefed someone about his mission, he'd probably have to endure some questions about his quad's role in the attacks, and he knew that it would be tricky since he hadn't really been present, at least not in the capacity he'd been ordered. So, Mako spoke to Yaozhu for a while over dinner, inquiring casually about what he, Jing, and Fa had done during the attacks. And when Yaozhu asked where Mako had been during the operations, Mako lied and told him that captains had been assigned special duties at the attack sites which were, unfortunately, top secret.

Yaozhu had been excited by the prospect of _top secret_.

Otherwise, Mako didn't see much of his quad during the trip home. They appeared each night to sleep and ventured out early for their breakfast, and Jing had only spent the first six hours seasick. That didn't stop him from mingling with the other three, according to Yaozhu, as he'd spent much of his time puking over the railing into the sea.

The ship docked on the beach north of Fire Fountain City sometime around noon, and again Mako went through the motions of herding their captives out of the boat and onto the beach. The process went the same way as it had when he'd been transported weeks ago: The people in good enough shape were bound at the wrists and marched in a file toward the enormous square where the fire-belching statue stood, and those who had been severely wounded or seemed infirm were separated and piled back onto the ship.

Mako imagined they'd be going to quarantine, just as he had done.

He parted ways with Jing, Fa, and Yaozhu as soon as the captives set off, and he walked with the other eleven captains back to their dormitory where they were greeted with cheers and whoops and general celebration. When Bingwei spotted him, he slapped Mako on the back so hard it was difficult to breathe for a few minutes. He retired to his apartment, then showered, changed his clothes, and lay down on the bed for a more restful sleep than he'd had in the last week.

When Bingwei woke him again, the sun had started to dip low. He explained that an enormous dinner had been prepared and laid out for their homecoming, and upon arriving in the mess hall, Mako sat quiet between Bingwei and some other captain or commander listening to the lot of them talk propaganda. Halfway through the meal, Guan made another appearance at the head of the room and briefed them all on the success of their most recent mission to Republic City. In sum, the society had recruited twenty-nine able-bodied firebenders, twelve earthbenders, nine waterbenders, and sixteen non-benders, numbers that startled Mako perhaps more than they should have. Beifong had known the attacks were coming. He'd instructed her to evacuate the areas. He'd hoped she would've done a better job.

But when he thought about it, Mako realized that the damage could've been so much worse, and the people who had been caught were likely those who disobeyed the evacuation order out of disbelief or who just didn't care enough to follow it. That didn't make them deserving of captivity, but it made Mako feel a little better.

Another round of cactus juice capped the meal, and Mako dumped it under the table while everyone else drank. He wanted to remember his evening this time.

He watched the celebration devolve with as much interest as horror, knowing that at one point he'd been a part of it. The men around him kept drinking, Bingwei included, and then someone brought out the girls, who stood in long double-file lines between the tables looking mostly horrified. Some people made their decisions quickly, others deliberated more carefully, and Mako overheard Bingwei's debate with another young commander as to whether he'd rather have the _stacked earthbender girl_ or _that scrawny one over there_.

Mako ducked out before Bingwei made his decision.

Knowing he couldn't return to his apartment, Mako walked. The night was on the uncomfortable side of cold, and the closer he got to the beach the more frigid the salt air seemed to become. Eventually he found himself a suitable spot to sit, somewhere northwest of the dormitories, on a rough stone jetty without a single boat in sight.

Mako dropped his chin on his hand, stared out at the water, and waited. Eventually enough time would pass for the debauchery to die down, and then he'd be able to return to his apartment to sleep in some semblance of peace. But it would be a while.

He tried to distract himself playing with fire, warming himself, staring up and trying to figure out which stars were the ones he'd been staring at while he was on the boat. He couldn't see nearly as many now, but the ones that were out shined bright and sparkled. He tried to count them, but couldn't keep himself focused. He couldn't stop thinking.

Beifong said that the girls had gone to the Boiling Rock. They had gone to investigate and see whatever they could. Mako imagined that they'd have been surprised by the population housed on the tiny island, and he hoped beyond hope that they had been smart enough to stay away. He hoped that they would contact Firelord Izumi, and that the full force of the Fire Nation army would come down hard. He doubted they would. Izumi had always been notorious for her unwillingness to engage her army.

Mostly, he hoped that they were okay. The news about Bolin had been difficult enough to bear-it was still difficult to think of-but when he entertained the possibility that Asami and Korra and even Opal could very well be dead, it set an even larger pit in his stomach. He was the one who'd sent them.

He took the fact that he'd not heard anything about the Boiling Rock on this end as a good sign. He had to take it as a good sign, otherwise he'd go crazy with worry.

Then, unbidden, his mind went fully to Bolin, and he sighed and scraped at the rocks with his fingers. He'd wanted so badly to visit the grave and say he was sorry for not being there when Bolin needed him. But there was no way. Mako would never make it to Zaofu. He'd already resolved himself to staying with the society until he could free the rest of his quad and Toru, and beyond that, the idea that he might be redeployed to Zaofu seemed a pipe dream. It was entirely likely that he'd be redeployed _somewhere_, considering the success of his last mission, but Mako couldn't think of a single firebender who was presently housed in the Metal City. It was a bunch of earthbenders and metalbenders, and there would be no use attacking it because the society wouldn't benefit in any way. They already had enough captive earthbenders to have created the network of tunnels beneath this island, and they had increased that number with their most recent trip: How could they ever want more?

He wondered how the funeral had gone, or if they had even held one. When he closed his eyes he imagined what he thought a funeral might look like, things he'd seen in pictures in books. He'd never been to a real funeral before. His parents hadn't had one; there had been no one to make the arrangements because no one knew they had died, and even if they'd had the chance to make arrangements, Mako and Bolin had been too young to know what to do. He never knew what happened to their bodies. But he imagined all the same: Bolin would be laying there in some kind of box all pale-faced and corpselike in whatever decent clothes he'd had available-not much if Mako knew his brother-and a few dozen people would be sitting there crying. And Pabu. Pabu would've been there, too, probably lying on Bolin like he always did.

But then Mako remembered: Bolin had been crushed, and the image in his head shifted accordingly. And then he remembered that Bolin had been attacked by combustion benders, and the image shifted again. By the time Mako had gone through all the possible combinations of injury and disfiguration he wondered exactly what mangled hunk of flesh would've been left to bury. There had to have been _something_, or else Su wouldn't have taken him to Zaofu.

Mako sniffled, and then he stood to make his way back home. He'd much rather try and sleep in his own warm bed with Bingwei and a strange woman wrestling next to him than keep imagining his dead little brother.

What a choice.

Bingwei had picked the _stacked earthbender girl_, but to Mako's relief they appeared to have tired themselves out by the time he'd entered the room. They were asleep and didn't even twitch when he fell awkwardly and noisily over one of the chairs, which Mako assumed had been moved as a part of their frivolity. Now sore and still slightly sad, he changed his clothes and bedded down with his pillow over his face.

He dreamed about home.

Mako woke early the next morning, uncertain what he was to do now that he was back home. He assumed that things would go much the same as they had before he left: Training in the yard, lunch with the quad, training in the yard, dinner with the captains, evening off duty, and sleep. But they'd had a truly successful deployment from anyone's standpoint, even Mako's own, and he'd been wondering if that would afford him some kind of leisure.

He left the room quietly this time, taking great care not to fall over the chair again: Bingwei and his lady friend, while still sleeping, looked significantly less sedated now. He showered and changed and made his way downstairs, hoping to snag some kind of breakfast before he went out.

He was in the midst of eating this breakfast when a courier dropped a letter on the table in front of him. Before Mako could protest or question this, the courier had moved on, dropping envelopes before several others before promptly exiting the room.

Mako recognized the writing this time, and he wasn't surprised. He'd had a meeting with Guan before he left, why wouldn't he have one upon returning? This time he wasn't as nervous when he unfolded the paper.

_Quad leader four zero five is summoned for a meeting with His Excellency, Guan, at two o'clock this afternoon. An escort will be waiting at one forty-five in the dormitory foyer_.

Descriptive, as always, Mako thought dryly. But he didn't need much description, he knew exactly what was going to happen: The escort, whoever it was, would lead him back into the enormous tunnel complex, wind him around for a little while, then drop him at some undisclosed location for his meeting where Mako would no doubt be asked to brief Guan and his council as to the success of their deployment. The only unknowns were whether this would be another dining experience-at two o'clock it'd be well past lunch time-and how Mako would represent his time in Republic City.

He met the quad at their appointed spot at their appointed time, and was relieved that they had operated under the same assumptions as he had. In all, it seemed they had recovered from their busy few days, but Jing and Fa looked somehow tired, maybe a little distracted. Yaozhu, in contrast, seemed unusually perky. And each of their expressions grew more intense, for better or for worse, when Mako explained that he'd been summoned again that afternoon.

As they worked through the morning, Mako found himself surprised by exactly how things had changed since his arrival. He'd not really considered it before, but everything he did had become as second nature now. He didn't have to think before issuing an order, and he didn't have to think before he responded to questions. And his quad seemed the same way. They had come to accept his unorthodox methods of command as normal. As he understood it, he was the only captain who allowed his subordinates to question his decisions forthrightly, and he was the only captain who considered those questions carefully when the time came to choose.

Mako had never thought that particularly strange. He'd always been able to question Beifong, and she was a fantastic chief of police; why shouldn't he operate the same way? Besides, Mako could think of no drawbacks to such a relationship. His quad had grown to be one of the strongest on the island, as far as he'd seen. They worked together fluidly. They developed a stronger, more fraternal relationship. Mako was their captain, of course, and Yaozhu never let him forget that, but in their eyes he was on the same level as they were. He got to make the final decisions in the end, but they knew he'd always take their concerns into account even when some of the concerns were, quite frankly, stupid.

And he'd gotten stronger as a result of his time there, too, Mako knew. He'd not had much occasion to look at himself-there weren't many mirrors on the island-but when he did encounter one he couldn't help but stare a little disbelievingly at what stared back. He'd never been out of shape simply as a matter of lifestyle; but then he'd never been so _in shape_ either. He'd always been small framed, at least when he compared himself to Bolin (as his was the only other body Mako had ever really _looked at_), but the addition of a hefty amount of muscle mass filled him out nicely. At least he thought it did.

He wondered what Korra would have to say. And that set a cold feeling in his chest.

Two o'clock came quick, and the roiling in Mako's stomach made him thankful he took an early lunch. The nervousness sprang up just as he was leaving his apartment, when the reality of the matter hit him. But by the time he said, "Hello," to the escort he'd reasoned the worry away. He had no cause to be afraid. He'd met with Guan before in relative privacy and had done a good enough job there. And nobody knew that he'd taken a couple of detours while he was in Republic City, nobody except Yaozhu anyway, and the kid's blind loyalty was far too strong to have wavered now. The other two had never figured out where he and Yaozhu had disappeared off to that night. As long as Mako kept his head about him, he'd be fine. As long as he didn't act nervous, everything would work out.

The walk took a long time, and Mako felt certain he'd seen some of the tunnels before. But then, all the tunnels looked the same, and they passed through a couple of wide, roughly-hewn rooms that looked to be for additional storage. They passed some new corridor entries from which Mako could hear all kinds of noises from earth smashing to people yelling. His first instinct was to go investigate these places, but every time he'd set his mind to looking around, it seemed he never got the chance.

There was no food this time. There was little in the way of luxury at all. The rickety table at which Guan sat was small and rectangular and completely bare. An empty chair sat opposite. There was no council.

Guan stood and gestured toward the empty seat. "Please," he said kindly, and Mako sat. Then he turned to the escort and said tersely, "This will be quick, wait downstairs," and the escort left. Then he set his eyes on Mako. "Well, what have you got to tell me?"

Mako tensed. All pretense of kindness had gone out of Guan once the escort left the room, and he now stood there with one hand on the back of his chair, staring hard. Mako wondered it if was a matter of intimidation again. Maybe Guan hadn't liked their last conversation, when Mako had been perhaps a little too flippant on the matter of militaristic authority.

"I spoke with a man who called himself Shirshu. He claimed to represent the Triads," Mako said. He tried to make himself sound as official as possible, like he was giving a police report to Beifong. "The conversation went well, but getting him on board required some negotiation."

"What kind of negotiation?"

"Nothing outrageous," Mako explained at once. "Nothing we wouldn't have done anyway, at least I assumed as much. I told him that in exchange for their cooperation, we'll warn them about any incoming attacks so they can get their men out before any of them are caught up in it. I also told them that we'd stay off their turf."

"Reasonable," Guan said. He turned around then and walked away, his hands clasped behind his back. He was staring at the ceiling. "Anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"Shirshu gave me a message for you. He said that he'd like a wire from you to confirm that the plan is a go. I told him that wouldn't be a problem, since we'll need an open line of communication anyway." Mako paused, thinking. Slowly, he continued. "You should also know that there was a fight when we left. Negotiations had finished, and Shirshu sent a few men at me. I took them out, got my quad, and we left."

"Easy as that?"

"No, not really," Mako replied honestly. "I said there was a fight. There were a lot of thugs in that place looking to get a piece of us. Yaozhu and I held them off so that Jing and Fa could escape."

"And where did you go afterward?"

"Back to our rooms, sir. Yaozhu and I were separated from the other two, but we met back at our rooms as soon as we could."

Guan nodded. "Anything else?"

Mako floundered for a moment, glad that Guan wasn't watching him. "Well, my quad and I were present for two of the attacks on Republic City. We assisted as we could."

"And how did you assist?"

"I took captives, sir."

"How many?"

"I managed three firebenders and a non-bender. Two at each site." Mako was surprised by how easily the lie came. He just hoped that no one had done some kind of official report on the matter. He wasn't sure how they could've.

"And your men?"

"I'm not sure, sir. My men handle themselves. I set them a job and they do it, no questions asked. You'd have to ask them what they did." Guan turned back around then, a strange smile on his face. He looked pleased, of course, but there was something else there. His expression was dulled by what might have been disappointment, but Mako couldn't know for sure.

"It seems you've made good on your side of our deal," Guan said. "And thus I should make good on mine. I'll have Toru delivered to your apartment this evening and she'll be free to come and go as you see fit. My only requirement is that she continue sleeping in the waterbender housing unit with the other healers, in case she's needed."

Mako wanted to argue that that hadn't been a part of the deal, but he kept his mouth shut. "Yes, sir," he said, and then added hastily, "Thank you, sir."

"Your quad will likely be deployed again very soon," Guan said. It startled Mako a little bit. He thought the conversation had ended. "I've got a few scouts in Fire Nation territory looking for connections. If they find one, you'll be the group I send to get them on board."

"Nothing else in Republic City?" Mako asked before he could stop himself. "It's a big place, there must be more..."

"No," Guan interrupted, stern. "No more in Republic City. It seems President Raiko has taken care of that for me."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"He's rallied the firebenders of Republic City against him, against the police, and against the population in general. I heard it from three separate sources and the _Republic City Press_ that was delivered to me this morning."

"How?"

Guan shrugged. "He's begun profiling them. He's put it in the public's head that firebenders are the enemy; that firebenders are the root cause of all the violence that's happened in the city lately. He's not wrong, mind you. With the firebenders required to register with the police, the public began to see them as frightening and has already started alienating them, and the firebenders have begun organizing. They've begun rioting." Guan paused and his smile turned genuine. It widened. "They're doing my job for me, and I couldn't be more pleased. If my goal is for all firebenders to be autonomous and superior, we're certainly well on the way."

Mako didn't know what to say.

"You're dismissed, Captain. I'll send a courier with details of your next deployment as soon as they come available. Otherwise, keep up the good work."

"Yes, sir," Mako said. "Thank you, sir."

Then Mako left.

The escort met him at the bottom of the same staircase they'd ascended to get into this building, and Mako spent the walk back to his apartment with his eyes on the ground, thinking. On one hand, he was glad that things had gone over well. But on the other, he wanted to go back to Republic City.

Mako met again with his quad just before dinnertime to brief them on his meeting. Yaozhu brimmed with pride, but Jing and Fa continued looking a little downcast, and Mako couldn't help but wonder if they were jealous that Yaozhu had become the second in command of their unit, at least unofficially. Or maybe they were just tired of the kid's unyielding optimism.

After the short meeting, Mako retired back to the captain's dormitory, took his dinner alone, and occupied the time thereafter sitting idly on one of the couches in his apartment, staring out the window and waiting.

He nearly fell off the lounge when Toru knocked on his door, and he scrambled to open it. In the seconds between touching the doorknob and greeting her, he wondered why he was so uptight about it, but all that went away the minute he saw her, when she threw herself at him with abandon, as though they hadn't seen each other in years.

She cried for a little while, explaining the tears as relief and happiness and all manner of positive feelings, and once she had calmed herself they left the apartment to walk about the island as they had done most nights before Mako was deployed. They didn't say much as they strolled, and Mako didn't know where they were going until he'd led her to the same rock jetty that he'd occupied the night prior, and they sat beside each other on the ground.

"I'm glad you're back," said Toru after a while. "Things went well?"

Mako nodded and dropped his chin on his hand. "Well enough. They're going to deploy me again sometime soon."

"Oh." She sounded downcast that time. "Were you able to take care of what you needed in the city?"

"Yeah," Mako replied. "Well, mostly. I got the Triads on our side like I was ordered, so that covers my rear with the chain of command. And I was able to go talk to the Chief, too. I warned her about the attacks. I tried to get her to evacuate, but I'm not sure how well it went. I'd have to imagine she did _something_."

"I'm sure she did. I overheard the numbers, and they seemed low for a Republic City raid."

"Well, that's good, then."

"If you got that done, what did you miss?"

He missed a lot, to be sure, but he knew Toru didn't mean it that way. He'd wanted to do so much while he was there: Visit Air Temple Island, talk to Korra about everything that had happened, have dinner with Asami. But mostly, he missed Bolin. "I didn't get to visit my brother," Mako said truthfully. He didn't bother trying to hide how sad he was about it. He might've, had it been anyone else sitting beside him, but Toru had seen him at his worst, at least when it came to Bolin.

"Why not?"

"He..." Mako faltered, then looked at the ground. He didn't know how to explain in a way that would make sense. Toru didn't know about Zaofu or Su or Opal or anything. So he settled on a half-truth and said, "His mother-in-law took him back to her home town to bury him since we don't really have family in the city."

"I didn't know he was married, you never told me that."

Mako shrugged. He didn't feel like going into semantics. Bolin and Opal had been together for years, for longer than any of Mako's relationships had hoped to be, and they'd been solid enough as a couple that Mako couldn't imagine them cutting things off. If she could forgive him for working with Kuvira and he could forgive her for holding such a ridiculous grudge about it, Mako imagined there was nothing that could tear them apart. They may as well have been married, as close as they were, and if Bolin's prideful bragging about their romantic life had been any indication, they would probably have had kids in a year.

But that wouldn't happen now.

Mako wondered for a while how Opal had taken the news.

"How did you get to see Chief Beifong?" Toru asked when the silence grew heavy. It seemed she was trying to change the subject, or at least to get Mako's mind off of Bolin. "I mean, you were busy on society business, weren't you?"

Mako shrugged. "We made a detour," he said. "Yaozhu and I, I mean. We visited with the Triad bosses, and on our way out they attacked us," he paused and looked at the horrified expression on Toru's face, and he guessed at her question easily enough. "No, nobody was hurt. Well, none of us anyway. Yaozhu did a number on their building." He shook his head and looked back at the ground. "Well, we split. I told Jing and Fa to head back to our rally point and Yaozhu and I stayed to fend off the Triads. And then I figured that we should go see Beifong while we had the chance. We hopped a cab and headed straight for headquarters."

"It sounds scary," Toru said.

"No, not scary," Mako replied thoughtfully. "There wasn't anything scary about it." He paused. That was a lie. He'd been mortified when the Triads attacked, and he'd worried about visiting Beifong, too. "Yaozhu gave us some cover and I snuck into the building without a hitch. Told Beifong everything I could in the short time I had, and then we bailed."

"What did you tell her?"

"I don't know," Mako said. "I explained to her what had happened, where I had been since I was taken from Ba Sing Se. Or at least I told her most of it, there was no way to get the whole story out there. And I told her about the attacks that had been planned so that she could evacuate, but I already mentioned that. She met Yaozhu and looked horrified to have a combustion bender so close to her. Then she told me that Bolin had been taken to Zaofu and that the rest of the people I care about were safe. That's really all. And there wasn't a lot of talking on her part, it was mostly me."

"They don't have combustion benders in the city?"

"None that are welcome. At least none that I know of."

"I'm happy that things went well for you," Toru said.

The silence came back for a while, and the two of them stared out at the dark. Mako could see the reflections of the stars in the still water. There were no ships.

Then he remembered.

"In a few days there's going to be a raid on the island," Mako said pointedly, his voice gone all serious, and he turned to face Toru directly. "On _this _island. I need you to be ready to go at a moment's notice, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I told Beifong that she needed to storm the city. I told her that she needs to get a group together to come take down the society and release the prisoners."

"When is she going to do that?"

"See, that's the problem," Mako said with a sigh. "I don't know. All I know is that I gave her the message, and if I know Beifong, she'll be on the ball about it. She doesn't mess around when it comes to things like this." He paused again, looked at the ground, then looked at Toru. "You have to be ready to go," he said seriously. "I mean it. You're coming with me."

"What?"

"When Beifong shows up and takes me home, you're coming with."

It looked to Mako like she wanted to cry again, but her eyes remained dry. Not surprising, considering that she'd cried most of the night away. She'd probably dried up.

"Come on," Mako said, and he got to his feet. "We ought to head back. I've got to be up early for quad and you've got to report back to your room."

"I know."

Toru stood, and they set off again. They stayed silent until they reached the dormitory, and Toru paused in the foyer.

"My room is in a different building," she said. "Looks like we'll part ways here."

Mako felt a little crestfallen. He expected that she had been staying in the same building as he was, the same as Guan was, but when he thought on the matter he supposed it made sense. She was a waterbender, a captive healer, and it was probably expected that she'd stay with the others. And to maintain the apparent illusion of distance, Guan probably had arranged the separation intentionally.

Before Mako could utter a good night, she kissed him, and then she left.

He didn't see her the next day. He didn't really see anyone, which wasn't troubling until he went to the yard for training. Only Yaozhu showed up, looking just as happy as he ever did.

"Where are the other two?" Mako asked shortly. He felt uneasy, and he didn't know exactly why. Things were just too quiet. Something felt off. "They know we're scheduled today, don't they?"

"They were sick," Yaozhu said. "I think they had some bad dumplings. I didn't eat them, but they did and they both left after dinner last night and didn't come back till late."

"Oh."

"They were gone again this morning when I woke up. Must've been something bad."

"Well, we can't really train without them."

"I suppose not."

"Hey, Cap?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's that?"

Yaozhu pointed over Mako's shoulder, and Mako turned round. An escort was approaching from the direction of the dormitory. Mako recognized him only by the unique uniform he wore. He looked impassive, but walked with some authority, with a purpose in his stride that hadn't been there with any other escort.

"Quad leader four zero five?" asked the escort, and Mako nodded. "You've been requested to appear before His Excellency as soon as possible. Please follow me."

Mako shot an uncertain glance to Yaozhu. "Head back. Make sure Jing and Fa are all right, okay? I'll come to the dorm and get you for afternoon training."

With a sigh, Mako turned back to the courier and nodded. Then the courier led him away. As they walked, Mako couldn't help but wonder what had come up so fast that Guan had to summon him two days in a row. He wondered if maybe there had been some news about deployment: The timeline for society matters seemed to be unreliable at best, if not downright erratic. It was entirely possible that a job had come in, especially if he'd done such a good job at the last one.

They trekked down into the tunnels again, and again Mako couldn't be certain exactly where they were going. It wasn't the same route as the night prior. They hadn't walked down such a steep incline, and the tunnels hadn't felt so cold or looked so rough.

They passed through a large circular chamber, from which there exited half a dozen other tunnels in all directions. They entered the corridor directly across the way, and again it sloped downward. For the first time, Mako began to realize just how enormous this place was, and the farther down they went the more tempted Mako became to ignite a flame in his hand. It was dark, and it was cold.

Eventually the escort stopped and motioned Mako onward. Orange light filtered in through the end of the corridor and flickered such that Mako knew it was lit by fire. Mako thought he'd enter into another wide multi-purpose room, but the path leveled out until it turned sharply to the right, and a formidable crowd stood at the intersection.

The minute Mako saw the group of men waiting, he knew something had gone terribly wrong. And when he saw Jing and Fa among them, he knew how. They stood among half a dozen others including Guan and his council, who held postures full of aggression. Guan himself looked impassive-he always looked that way-but when Mako came into the light, he smirked.

"Hello," he said coolly.

Mako didn't respond at first. His mind was racing, searching for answers, and he could only think of one. Still, he clung to hope, and he replied, "Hello, sir."

This cordiality seemed only to make Guan's smile widen. "It seems we've had a misunderstanding, you and I, and I'd like to clear the air. Are you willing to answer some questions for me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good. Now, these two," Guan motioned at Jing and Fa, who despite their stone faces looked mildly afraid, "have given me some information that, if true, could mean our relationship is at an end. That would be a shame. You've been a very promising captain. Now, yesterday I summoned you to a private meeting and asked you if there was anything you'd like to tell me. Perhaps I was unclear in that. I wanted everything. So let's try again: Do you have anything you'd like to tell me, Mako?"

"No, sir," Mako said. The pit in his stomach grew, and his body grew cold from his stomach out. That tiny shred of hope was fading fast. "I told you everything."

"Yes, I thought you'd say that," Guan replied. His voice gave no hint of emotion at all, not even of disappointment. "So let me counter you. Your quadmates here informed me last night that you disappeared for a portion of your stay in Republic City. Where did you go?"

"I was scouting, sir," Mako said.

"Scouting what, Mako?"

"The sites that we planned to attack. I wanted to find the best places to-"

Guan interrupted him with a cold, heartless laugh. "See, you're lying to me." His face went cold. It was the face of a man gone mad. It was the face of death. "I don't like when people lie to me, especially people who I entrusted with important tasks. Now, I'll ask you once more: You were unaccounted for for several hours, where did you go?"

Mako didn't say anything. He knew better than to say anything now, it had been lesson number one in detective training. When someone is on to you, stay quiet unless you were forced to speak, that way they couldn't catch you in a lie. That way, you could think of what to say to carry on the story.

Guan stepped forward. "My informants tell me that you went to visit with Chief Lin Beifong. Is that true?"

For a minute, Mako thought about remaining silent. But he had a bad feeling that if he did, things would go south even faster. Maybe if he talked, he could weasel his way out of this. "Respectfully, sir, if the only informants you're relying on are those two, you might consider finding another source."

"I did."

This set Mako on his heels. Stunned, he couldn't even open his mouth.

"Four accounts, Captain. I've got four separate accounts outside of these two that suggest you were in the vicinity of police headquarters that night. If you were speaking to Chief Beifong, that would be tantamount to treason."

Mako stood rooted to the spot. He'd been had. Someone had caved.

Yaozhu.

The kid was the only person who knew that Mako had been anywhere he shouldn't have been. The kid was the only one who knew that he went to see Beifong and what he'd said to her. But Yaozhu wouldn't have betrayed him, he was too loyal. Everything he did seemed to be in the name of making Mako happy. Half an hour ago Yaozhu had seemed as chipper as any other time. He wasn't good enough to hide his emotions so well.

The only conclusion was that he'd spilled to Jing and Fa. It made sense. The kid must have been so excited to have been part of a secret mission that he'd said something to those two, and those two had come forward to offer that information to Guan. Information here held value, and both of them had motive. Perhaps they had cut a deal with Guan where if they divulged information about Mako's treason, they would be rewarded or released. Maybe their families would be spared.

"More, these two informed me several weeks ago that you had sent a letter by messenger hawk," Guan said. "They told me that you were trying to warn Beifong of our locations and plans."

Mako glanced behind. At some point a group had assembled at his rear. He'd been set up, and he'd walked right into it. There was no escape, but he'd certainly try.

"I thought so," Guan continued. "Punishment for treason is death, but you've served me extremely well otherwise. You completed the task I assigned you with the Triads, and in doing so you established a connection that I couldn't have created on my own. Knowing you had sent that letter-and knowing what information it contained-allowed us to evacuate the Boiling Rock quarantine and prepare it for whomever the Chief sent to investigate. The place was set with enough explosives to level the island. Pity to those who went."

Afraid, Mako began preparing himself to fight. His body tensed, and his eyes narrowed. He'd been training for this, he thought. He'd put his body through the wringer to build strength and stamina and increase the power of his bending, and he'd made such progress that lightning came just as easily as fire now. He was more potent than he'd been when he arrived. Maybe that would help him now.

"Don't try to fight us," Guan said. "It will be better for everyone if you come quietly."

Mako assumed a defensive posture, and in a cold voice he said, "No."

Before he could wind up to lightning bend, Guan ducked and spun to the side, opening the way for the shot to connect beyond where he'd been standing. The bolt arced out from Mako's outstretched hand, split and crackled, and struck both Jing and Fa in their middles before they could react. They fell twitching to the floor.

The remaining men exploded into action, and Mako threw himself to the ground to avoid the first volley of fire and lightning. He spun around to his feet, kicking hot flaming plumes in a wide arc around where he'd fallen. He punched a rushing attacker straight in the face, which hurt his hand, and followed through with a fire blast that seemed to fill the whole of the corridor from which he'd entered.

But then the combustion started, and Mako knew he'd lost. He'd trained with Yaozhu enough to understand combustion, but he'd never learned how to counter it. He never thought he'd need to.

The first bolt came at him, and Mako managed to dodge such that the blast shattered the ground ten feet beyond, knocking a few enemies to the floor unconscious. More fire flew about, and Mako dispelled it deftly. But there was too much. The heat was too intense.

Another combustion bolt whizzed past his head and hit the wall beside him so close that he fell. He understood then that they were shooting to kill.

Once more, he scrambled to his feet, adrenaline flowing, and tossed another three lightning bolts in as wide an area around himself as he could. Powerful as they were, the arcs of electricity struck only two more men.

Their numbers were too many, and they overwhelmed him. For a while, Mako stood his ground and deflected, dodged, and countered their shots. But then he mistimed his dodge and pivoted toward the wall to avoid an arc of lightning just as a combustion bolt struck.

As he fell down, Mako remembered Ba Sing Se. He remembered the heat of the explosion and the chaos of the moment. He remembered tossing his hands out wide and catching the fire blast as it bloomed. This was so similar, he thought. This felt exactly the same. Except this time he hadn't been able to stop it. The corridor was too narrow. Even if he'd been able to anticipate the blast, there would've been nowhere to deflect it.

He hit the floor hard, and the enemy firebenders overwhelmed him. All he could do now was try to protect himself from further damage, so Mako curled his arms around his head to protect against the unbearable heat. Then there came another combustion bolt, and in the fraction of a second before it connected, Mako knew he wasn't going to wake up.


	26. Admitting the Truth

By the time the girls touched down in Zaofu, they had run out of things over which to speculate. While they had spent the trip from the Boiling Rock to Republic City in stunned silence, the news they received from Tenzin had sparked new and intense conversation. In the end, it led nowhere, and until Lin came available to answer their questions, they didn't believe it would.

Zaofu, for its part, seemed unaffected by the turmoil that had taken over the wider world, but it had always been something of an outlier. It had always been as solid as the rock that served as its foundation, and no small part of that foundation was made of Su Beifong and her unyielding but gentle authority.

Which is why it was strange to find her missing.

The landing pad had been completely clear, even of guards, and it had taken a fair bit of wandering before the girls found anyone useful to talk to at all. They ran into Huan, who seemed just as aloof and generally useless as usual, but he explained that Su had been cooped up in her office for most of the last two days entertaining phone calls and working through a veritable mountain of paperwork. She'd barely even come out for meals. When Opal asked about Bolin, he shrugged and said, "I don't know where your boyfriend is. Probably tearing up the yard again."

And then Huan walked away without so much as greeting Korra or Asami.

Huan had been right: Su was in her office, but she wasn't on the phone. She wasn't moving at all. She sat, elbows propped on her desk with her head in her hands, and she remained completely motionless even after Opal had closed the door behind them. When she finally looked up, her face didn't break into the grin that Korra had been expecting. It stayed blank.

"Is everything okay?" Opal asked. She hadn't moved from the doorway, but stood with her hand still on the knob. "You look awful."

Su stood without speaking and walked to the center of the office, where two bright green couches stood opposite each other with a small rectangular table between, and she motioned for the girls to join her. Opal led the way and plopped onto the couch beside her mother. Asami and Korra sat on the other.

"I'm glad you're all safe," Su said once they had settled, and though her words had been happy, her face didn't follow. She looked distressed. "Have you run into Bolin?"

"No," Opal said. "We just got here."

"We thought it'd be best to come see you first thing," Korra added, "since we didn't get the chance to talk to Lin about the Boiling Rock and we'll need to let her and the Firelord know what happened."

"How did it go?" Su asked. Her concern had shifted toward interest.

Opal did most of the talking. She explained the quietness of their journey to the Boiling Rock, their plan of attack once they got there, and the things they had seen in the building. And though Su perked up at the mention of the papers they had collected, she remained quiet through the whole talk. Asami filled in a few blanks when Opal prompted, but Korra kept silent. She was too busy watching Su's expression to participate in the talking. A few shades of worry creased her forehead when Opal went into the more harrowing parts of their trip, and she frowned deeply when Opal mentioned the explosions.

"They knew you were coming," Su said.

"They must have," Opal replied.

"Do you know how they were rigged?" Su asked. "Or do you know what they used?"

All eyes turned to Asami, and Asami shook her head. "It was on a trigger that was linked to the gondola. Otherwise I have no idea."

They all went quiet, and after a time spent thinking, Su sighed. "We've got problems here, too," she said. Then, she seemed to harden, and instead of sighing again she took a deep, confident breath that made her appear every bit the leader Korra knew her to be. "I know this is sudden, but I think it's time we came clean to Bolin."

The girls exchanged worried glances. Opal and Asami looked just as apprehensive as Korra felt. "Why?" Korra asked. "I mean, I knew we'd have to eventually, but why right now? What happened?"

Su shook her head and curled her legs onto the couch. She shifted uncomfortably. "Because there's no use trying to keep it secret anymore," she said. "I don't know if you girls have realized it, but he's gotten pretty good at reading people these days. Like scary good."

Another exchange of looks. Korra remembered what Asami had said the night Bolin collapsed, how he'd been able to tell she was dodging his questions, but nothing had been mentioned of it since. Korra wondered if Su had noticed something. Maybe Su had experienced something.

"Listen, girls, Mako is alive," Su went on. Korra, Opal, and Asami all gaped at her, but Su didn't allow them the chance to say anything. "Which we suspected, but didn't know for certain. Well, now we know for certain. He was in Republic City and went to see Lin."

"What?" Korra balked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. Mako was in Republic City and showed up at the precinct with a combustion bender. Well, Lin said he was a combustion bender, but he was a kid and didn't have any tattoos on his forehead. She said he looked like the combustion bender that attacked Bolin-she said it was uncanny. But Mako... He had a long conversation with Lin about where he'd been and what he was doing in the city. He warned her about the attacks that happened, and she managed to issue evacuation orders. But he didn't stick around. He bolted."

Nobody said anything for a long time. It wasn't the news of Mako being alive that had stunned them so thoroughly, Su was right that they had suspected that all along: What stunned them was the manner by which it had been confirmed. He'd been to Republic City? He'd seen Lin? He'd spoken to her? Out of nowhere?

"When?" Korra asked. "When was he there?"

"Showed up the day we all left. Well, that evening, anyway."

"Was he okay?" Asami said. "Was he hurt?"

"No," Su said, and there seemed to be some surprise in her voice. "Lin said he looked good. She said he looked really good, actually, in better shape than he was in before he left. Not a mark on him."

"Where had he been?" Asami asked. "What did he tell her?"

Su shook her head. "Not much, I guess, at least as far as where he'd been. He said that he'd been stationed at Fire Fountain City and that the place was crawling with people."

"And why was he there?" Opal asked. "In Republic City, I mean… What was he doing?"

"He told Lin that he'd been negotiating with the Triads, or something to that effect. He got them to do some kind of reconnaissance. And he also said that the people who sent him were conducting the attacks to kidnap people."

More strained silence.

"I guess all of that is beside the point," Su continued. "The conclusion is that Lin wants to organize a raid on Baihe Island-that's where Fire Fountain City is located-but she can't pull any forces out of the Republic because of the attacks, and the Firelord won't commit yet. She's getting closer, but you know how she is. So, Lin wants you all to go as soon as possible and get Mako out regardless of what the Firelord thinks." She paused. "I just found out about all this recently, within the last couple of days, and I wanted to wait until you girls got here to tell Bolin about it. Tenzin said that you'd be back here soon, and I figured Bolin would need the extra support once he found out the truth of the matter. It's going to tear him up." She paused and looked deliberately at each one of them. "And I'm glad you showed up earlier than we planned, because I haven't been able to stay in the same room with him since I found out."

"Why not?" Korra asked.

"Because he _knows_."

"He knows what?" asked Opal.

Korra had a good feeling she knew what Su was going to say.

"I don't know how to explain it," Su said, and again she looked at her feet, all her confidence apparently gone. "He can tell something's wrong. He tried to explain it to me last night, but I don't know that I really understand. He said that he's started being able to feel people. Somehow he uses his earthbending to tell how people feel and see where people are. He said it's got something to do with vibrations in the earth and that it's stronger when he's barefoot."

"That's how he knew I was dodging his questions," Asami said in a voice that meant she'd come to a definite conclusion. " I was sitting on his feet! That's how he knew I was lying to him. Does that mean he's a truth seer?"

"No," Su said. "I don't think so. Did he call me on lying? Yes, he did, and with certainty. But he said himself that the only reason he knew was because I felt nervous to him. He can tell someone is lying because they tense up, or something like that, because something changes in the way they feel to him." She shook her head as if clearing out a thought. "I don't think that makes him a truth seer as much as it makes him sensitive to the earth, but then again, I don't know how truth-seeing works. I never bothered to ask mom about it. But, I mean, Bolin is a lavabender, after all, so why wouldn't he be able to do other weird, rare things? Anyway, I've been trying to keep my distance ever since, because if he knew how anxious I've been for all of you to show up here, he'd never leave me alone."

"So we have to tell him," Opal said. "Where is he?"

Su shrugged. "We're not telling anyone anything tonight," she said. "We'll wait until tomorrow. I need to get some more information from Lin, if I can, and I'll give her your details about the Boiling Rock and have her check with Tenzin on those documents, if he hasn't already given them to her. We need to get everything we possibly can squared away, and I'd love to have a complete plan of action. That way we can make sure all of our turtleducks are in a row before we go upsetting Bolin too much. We can make him angry, but then we can calm him down by explaining exactly what we're going to do about it."

The mention of upsetting Bolin upset Korra. She'd been on the receiving end of his anger too many times for her liking already. The tiniest things set him off, things that would never have fazed him before. It seemed like he had no control over himself because he would lash out and then regret it and then lash out again. And this revelation would definitely garner another blowout, to say the least.

All manner of terrible scenarios started rolling through Korra's imagination, ranging from the utterly absurd to stark realism. She imagined he might lavabend at her out of pure rage like he had done to Katara at the South Pole. That sight had been both awe-inspiring and wholly terrifying: If he turned that kind of power against her there would be no way for her to counter it short of knocking him out, even as the Avatar, and that was only if she could get a shot in. Then she imagined that he'd just yell a lot, and she could practically hear it. That notion made her anxious, too. Then she imagined that he'd hurt her some other way. He might try to hit her. He might try to earthbend at her. Korra didn't know. She didn't know what he was capable of anymore, mentally or physically. But a large part of her knew that no matter what he did, he'd be perfectly justified in all of it.

Korra had always known they'd have to tell the truth at some point. Ever since Lin presented them with Mako's letter those weeks ago, she knew that they'd have to tell Bolin that they'd been keeping the truth from him. But even if they had wanted to tell him straightaway they wouldn't have been able to. There hadn't been a good moment, a moment when Bolin was capable of handling the news.

They'd had their first suspicions during the Earth Summit nearly a month ago, when they had spoken to Prince Wu in the hospital, and at that time Bolin had been too angry to listen to reason. He'd blown up at Su and Lin, nearly liquefied the precinct, and then stormed off without a word. And then he'd been so unstable that he'd terrified Opal, and he'd left without even saying good-bye to her. Then, beyond anyone's wildest imaginings, things had gotten worse.

No way could Bolin have handled the news post-collapse. He'd been stuck in bed with no brain for several days after the fact, and then for the next days his mind had run on half power at best. Even on a good day he could barely speak. He couldn't walk. He couldn't think. He hadn't been able to play Pai Sho, and though he'd never been the best player he'd at least been able to hold his own. He couldn't even remember the pieces.

Then the other half of his mind started to kick in, albeit slowly, and he'd grown even less stable. Something in his brain seemed to have changed, and it had changed drastically. Korra couldn't remember the last time he cracked a joke that wasn't full of disdain or sarcasm, and she'd not heard a genuine laugh out of him for as long as she could remember. He'd been radiating a coldness and detachment that Korra had never experienced out of anyone before.

Korra felt only slightly better after these thoughts. She settled on the idea that too many tiny things had gone wrong for them to have dropped such an enormous load on him. The right opportunity hadn't presented itself, and he might not be ready for it now. He'd been in Zaofu for something close to a week, and she didn't know what kind of progress he'd been making, if he'd made any at all. Su hadn't mentioned it. But if he was half as bad as he was before he'd been forced to come here...

Korra worried that when Bolin found out he'd go into another tailspin. And she worried even more that this time they wouldn't be able to pull him out of it. They'd barely been able to pull him out of it last time, if indeed they had succeeded at all. Bolin had gotten so good at lying and covering his tracks and neglecting himself without letting anyone see it that Korra worried he'd do it all over again. And now that he knew they were on to him, he'd probably be more covert. If he'd truly wanted to hurt himself before, she didn't want to imagine how he'd feel knowing that the people he loved most had betrayed him.

She didn't know how the conversation with Su had ended. She'd been too caught up in her own worries to really pay attention to things outside her mind. But she and Asami were suddenly outside, strolling through the courtyard toward the guest rooms. Whatever they had talked about seemed to have had no real affect on Asami, and Korra wasn't surprised. Asami had always been able to reason her way out of worry. She was just that logical. But Korra wasn't the same. Her feet were moving of their own accord. It felt like she was floating, like her head had detached from her body in some kind of surreal dream.

All the anxiety Korra had missed feeling lately seemed to have come back tenfold. And now it wasn't a happy, warm anxiety either. It wasn't butterflies in the stomach like it had been when she thought about the kiss. Now it was cold. Now it felt like someone had died all over again, like it had felt the day Lin told them about Ba Sing Se when this whole mess started. It felt the same as it had in the combustion bender's cell, when she'd heard Asami's terrified scream and she'd run out to find her on the ground, Bolin half on top of her and not moving or talking or responding in any way at all. She'd wanted to cry then, but had managed to hold herself together at least for Asami's sake.

"It's going to be a long night," Asami said, and she stopped so suddenly that Korra almost ran into her. They had made it to the guest rooms, and presently stood outside two neighboring doors. "I might try to stay in. I don't want to worry about tomorrow until I absolutely have to, and I figure Bolin won't come looking for me, especially not if Opal manages to find him."

Korra didn't ask what Asami meant by that.

"Hey, are you all right?" Asami asked. She touched Korra's hand gently. "You look a little sick. Do you feel okay?"

"I'm fine," Korra lied. "I'm just worn out." What could she say to Asami now? Maybe if she'd explained the situation earlier it would be okay to tell her that the prospect of Bolin's anger had her well beyond mortified, but Asami didn't know. She didn't know what had happened at the hospital. She didn't know how torn up and conflicted Korra had been feeling ever since. And now that Korra knew that Bolin was going to hate her-he was going to hate all of them-it ate her up even more.

"I think you should lay down for a while," Asami said. She cracked open one of the doors and motioned for Korra to enter. "You want me to come get you for dinner?"

"Yeah," Korra replied. She had no energy, and her voice conveyed that clearly enough. She didn't know what else to say, so she accepted Asami's kiss on the cheek, entered the room, and closed the door quietly behind her.

Korra spent the rest of the afternoon pacing around her room and laying idly on the bed staring at the ceiling. The more she thought on the matter of Bolin the more nervous she became. She'd cried out of stress for twenty minutes as soon as she was sure Asami had gone, and even though the tears had stopped, it felt to Korra that they might spring up again any second.

She tried to meditate, but every time she closed her eyes she could hear Bolin yelling. She tried to sleep, but she couldn't drift off for fear of dreaming about him. And it wouldn't matter if the dream was good or bad: Any thoughts about him right now wouldn't soothe her mind. They would only lead back to the inevitable: She had wronged him by keeping secrets, and he would hate her for it. And while it was bad enough to have such a close friend angry, she couldn't fathom how awful it would be now that things had gotten complicated.

By the time dinner rolled around, Korra had come to a difficult conclusion: She couldn't bear the thought of Bolin being angry at her. And she wasn't scared of the yelling and she wasn't scared of his bending or anything like that. She was afraid of what would come after. He'd been angry before, yes, and he'd yelled at her before, but every time he did he seemed to calm down quickly and regret his actions immediately. He apologized profusely, almost manically. But Korra knew in her heart that there would be no apologizing this time. He wouldn't regret anything. What would come tomorrow would be worse than anything Korra had yet seen by orders of magnitude. He'd never trust them again. She would never have the chance to talk to him about how conflicted she felt.

She would be forced to carry the memory of that night all by herself, possibly forever, and Korra wasn't sure that she could accept that.

Asami knocked on Korra's door at a quarter to six, and Korra followed her to the dining hall silently, her head held low. Asami babbled on about any number of things as they walked, from the weather in this province to the reconstruction of the domes to the newest sculpture Huan had put in the courtyard, but Korra didn't pay attention to any of it. Every time she looked at Asami, even if it was just the back of Asami's head, her gut twisted with guilt and anxiety. How could she have kept everything a secret from Asami for so long? Wasn't her withholding the truth about her night with Bolin the same as her withholding the truth about Mako? Wasn't it all equally deceptive? Wouldn't Asami be just as angry with her as Bolin was going to be if Korra told the truth? And wouldn't she be justified in that?

Korra didn't eat much. She poked at her vegetables and nibbled at the rice, but the knot in her stomach had tied itself too tight for her to stomach much else. When Asami asked again what was wrong and every eye at the table looked at her, Korra felt like she might throw up. She worried that they would see through her. She worried that they would figure out her secret just by looking at her. She kept her mouth shut, unable to think of a suitable lie and fearing that any attempt would betray her.

In the end, she was just glad that Bolin hadn't shown up.

Opal had reported that she'd found him playing with Pabu in the middle of what had once been a nice green area behind the compound, and that he'd seemed on the level. She said that he'd looked good, that he'd looked a little bit stronger and had seemed a little happier, and that he had more color and better energy. She didn't go into much more detail than that, and for that Korra was thankful. She didn't want to think about how they must've kissed each other and how he must've held her and how...

Korra sighed and excused herself from the table.

It didn't take long for Asami to find her, but it wasn't like Korra was trying to hide. She'd gone straight back to her room and collapsed onto her bed, then buried her face in her pillow to try and stifle the emotions. She couldn't figure out why she was so conflicted and so confused, and that scared her more than anything.

Asami sat beside Korra and patted her on the thigh, but Korra didn't bother looking at her. She didn't think it necessary. Besides, if she showed her face to Asami now, Asami would see her red eyes and her puffy cheeks and know she'd been crying, and then Asami would ask questions, and Korra wasn't sure that she could hold everything in.

"Okay," Asami said at last in a gentle voice, "what's going on?"

It seemed that Asami would be asking questions anyway, and for a moment after Asami had finished speaking, Korra lay in silence, contemplating her choices. She could lie or she could tell the truth. There were no half-measures here. Half-measures would only make things worse.

"I'm scared," Korra said. It was the truth. She was absolutely terrified of so many different things. All the secrets and lies and omissions seemed to be caving in on her all at once.

"What are you scared of?"

"Tomorrow."

It wasn't a lie.

Asami lay down beside Korra, removed the pillow from her head, and stroked her hair. "We all are, a little bit," she said placidly. "There's no getting around that. But who knows, maybe it'll go over well. Maybe knowing about Mako will help Bolin get stronger. It'll give him a reason to try again. It might even him out a bit."

Korra shook her head. "I don't think it's going to be that easy."

Asami sighed. "No, I know it won't be easy. Bolin's going to be really angry. But he's been really angry before and we've dealt with it. He's yelled at all of us before, but we've recovered. And he's recovered, too. Besides, Bolin's way too nice to hold a grudge for too long. It'll be rough for a while, but things will work out. Things always work out in the end."

Despite her best effort, Korra burst into fat, ugly tears that only made her feel more self-conscious. She wanted to pull the pillow back over her head and disappear into it entirely. She didn't want Bolin to be angry at her. And she didn't want Asami to be angry at her, either

"Really now," Asami said once Korra had calmed a little bit, "talk to me. You've never acted this way because you were _scared_ before. Normally you get scared and you get angry about it. There's something else...What is it?"

Asami had asked the question so nicely. She'd sounded so genuinely concerned.

With an enormous breath, Korra sat up and rubbed her eyes hard with the backs of her hands. And then she stared at her knees and fidgeted. She had to say something. She had to get it off her chest. If now was the time to come clean about secrets kept from others, she had to come clean, too.

"I..." Korra stammered, and her throat tightened. "I need to tell you something."

Now Asami looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared of Bolin being angry at me," Korra admitted, but the feeling went deeper than the words could ever have conveyed. "The thought of him being angry at me again... I can't take it. I can't stand the thought of him not talking to me anymore."

"We all feel that way, Korra. None of us want him to be upset, but it can't be helped."

"No," Korra replied. Her voice had taken on an emotional quiver again. "No, you don't understand. You _can't_ understand. I... The night he... I..." She swallowed the lump in her throat and breathed deep to stop the stammering. "I think I have a crush on Bolin."

Korra dared not look at Asami now. She could feel her staring and the tense silence stayed for far too long. But then Asami let out a laugh that Korra hadn't been expecting, and Korra looked up, stunned.

"Is that it?" Asami said. A bit of joy seemed to have come back to her. "That's it? A crush?"

Korra looked down, unable to say anything at all. Now she felt both horrified and embarrassed.

"I can understand that," Asami said. "I mean, he did look pretty good before he left for Zaofu. And there's nothing wrong with having a little crush on someone. We're only human, after all."

"No, Asami, you don't understand," Korra said. Her voice had gone very small but very serious. She could scarcely force the words out.

"What don't I understand?"

"The night of the collapse... The night I spent with him to make sure nothing else happened... He... He and I..." Korra paused and glanced at Asami out of the corner of her eye. The worry had come back tenfold, and Asami's brow had wrinkled. Korra couldn't tell if Asami was more confused or concerned. She looked back down and started wringing her hands nervously. "He and I slept..." She swallowed hard again. "He kissed me. And I kind of... I think I kind of liked it."

Asami didn't say anything, and the knot in Korra's stomach began to inflate like a balloon. She didn't know how to explain herself to make the truth sound less horrible, but she couldn't keep herself quiet, either. Now she'd started talking she couldn't stop it. The dam had burst. She had to make it better.

"The first time he did it I was a little scared," Korra sniffled, now somewhat frantic, "because I'd just woke up and his arm was around me and his hand was under my shirt and on my stomach and he thought that I was Opal."

"Wait, what? The _first_ time?" There was death in Asami's voice now. Korra had never heard such a tone come from her. "What do you mean, _the first time_?"

"He woke up, like I said..."

"And you were _sleeping_ with him?" Asami interrupted hotly. "You were _sleeping_ _with him_? Like… Like…"

"No! Not like that! I was tired!" Korra cried. "I was tired and I was worried! There was only one bed! And I fell asleep and when I woke up it all happened, and then he thought I was Opal and he kissed me and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't stop it! I didn't know what to do! I was too tired! I was confused!" The tears had come back again. There was no hiding it, just as there was no hiding Asami's rage. "And then we laid there for a while and he kept _touching_ me... He kept touching me everywhere-"

"_Touching_ you? _Everywhere_?"

For a second, Korra couldn't speak through the tears. Instead, she just nodded.

"Touching you everywhere..." Asami's voice had gone very shrill and very sharp. It didn't sound like she was going to cry at all.

"He kept... I don't know how to describe it, but it made me... He was being so gentle about it, and I didn't know he could do that kind of thing and it scared me and... He caught me off guard!"

Asami's eyes had gone wide now. She looked disbelieving, but she didn't say anything. Korra looked away. She had to get it all out, no matter what.

"And then he told me that he didn't think he was going to remember any of it, and he sounded really sad about it, and then he kissed me again and it... I don't know!"

"How many times?"

"Three."

"_Three_? And you never thought to stop him?"

Korra shook her head. "I couldn't stop it. I didn't know how. And on top of all of it he told me that he loved me."

Asami stood. Korra could feel her anger. She was seething. "No wonder," she spat. "No wonder you spent so much time with him! You... You were..."

"Asami, wait," Korra pleaded. "Just... Just wait..."

"Wait for what, Korra? For you to tell me all the other stuff you two did while you were alone together? No, I'm not going to wait."

"We didn't do _anything_!" Korra cried.

"Clearly." Asami rounded on Korra, and Korra felt her throat clench up again. "Did you kiss him back?"

Korra nodded. She couldn't lie now. That would only make it worse.

"And you _liked_ it?"

At a loss for anything else to say, Korra nodded.

Asami let out an incredulous, angry, and disbelieving laugh. "And that explains everything," she cried. Then her voice went dangerously quiet again. "It explains everything completely, why you were acting so weird, why you were acting so nervous every time he came around. It was because you... You had feelings?"

"I don't know!" Korra cried. "I don't know! I'm confused and... And I don't know!"

"And he told you that he loves you."

"He said he thought he did, but he couldn't remember."

The laugh again. "I don't know what's worse, Korra. I don't know if I'm angrier that you kissed him or that you kept all of this away from me. I thought I knew you better than that. I thought you cared a little more than that. I thought you could be honest with me."

"I do care! And... I didn't kiss him, he kissed me!"

"What does it matter?" Asami spat. "You _liked_ it, and you liked it enough that you'd kiss him back and then lie to me about it," She went very quiet. "I don't even know you. A crush is one thing, but you crossed the line, Korra."

Korra felt the tears coming on again, and she wiped frantically at her eyes. "Asami, I don't know what to do! I can't have you mad at me, too! I don't even know how to feel anymore!"

"Well, how _do_ you feel?" Asami asked. She still sounded exceptionally angry, but somehow calm. It was like she was holding it all in. "Right now, if Bolin was to walk in this room, what would you do?"

"I'd be nervous!"

"Why?" Asami cried. "Why would you be nervous if there was nothing between you? You've been hanging around him for _years_, Korra, and you've never been nervous before. We've all done all kinds of stuff together, and none of it has ever been weird! If none of this mattered like you keep trying to convince me, then you wouldn't feel that way!"

"I feel nervous because every time he touches me I get all tingly and warm and..." she swallowed hard again. "And every time I think about it my stomach does flip flops and I don't know if it's because I'm just... I don't know!"

"Are you kidding?"

"No! I'm confused! I like you, Asami, I really, really do, I love you! And I want to be with you right now. I don't know what else to do!"

Asami shook her head. "That's great. You don't want to be with me because you care, you want to be with me so I can tell you what to do and drag you out of the mess you made."

"No!" Korra said. "No! That's not it at all!"

Once again, Asami shook her head, but this time she turned again for the door. "I don't even know what to think anymore."

"Don't go!"

With her hand on the door handle, Asami turned. "I'm going," she said. "And we're not okay. This isn't okay, Korra. I need to think. Don't follow me."

Then Asami disappeared, and Korra sat staring at the door. It had gone so badly, she thought. She had wanted to make the admission to clear the air and get some help dealing with her conflicted feelings. But it had all gone wrong. All Korra wanted was someone to talk to. She needed someone to help her work through it all, and now the only person she felt like she could rely on had walked out on her.

She'd done a horrible job explaining herself, she knew, but she hadn't been prepared to explain herself, either. She couldn't even muddle through her own brain, let alone explain what was going on inside of it to someone else.

Korra dropped her head in her hands and cried again. She hated herself. She'd blown her only chance to get help. Asami was her only hope. Asami was the only one she could talk to about the whole mess. She couldn't talk to Opal for reasons that, even in Korra's confusion, were obvious. And she couldn't talk to Su. Su had enough on her plate already without the addition of relationship drama.

She definitely couldn't talk to Bolin. Maybe she could have talked to him before all of this happened. She'd confided in him a thousand times before about everything under the sun. Not now. Not knowing that they were going to break him again tomorrow. And what would she say to him anyway? _Hey, you kissed me and it was pretty good, but I also really like Asami. What should I do?_ Even without the complications, she knew he wouldn't give her a good answer. He'd always had feelings for her, and he admitted them freely and often. He'd admitted it to her face even recently. If she walked up to him and told him how conflicted she was feeling, he'd be over the moon.

Wouldn't he?

Or maybe he'd be angry. Everything seemed to make him angry lately, even things that shouldn't have. But the more Korra thought on it, the more she realized that anger in this situation would be perfectly justified. She'd broken his heart once. No, she hadn't broken it, she'd completely obliterated it, lit the ashes on fire, and stomped all over the remains. He'd done nothing to deserve it. And every time he'd subtly reminded her over the next years that he was still open to the idea of dating her, she'd shut him down point blank. The exchange had become so routine that Korra didn't even think about it anymore. It happened so often that she viewed it as a joke. She'd traipsed around with Mako, she'd been utterly single, she'd started a relationship with Asami, all while Bolin watched from the sideline. If she was to backpedal now after all of his trying and all of her rejecting him, if she was to tell him that she was game, he'd be outraged. And he'd be right to feel that way, too.

Korra felt stuck. She felt sick. Asami was gone, and she probably wasn't coming back any time soon. But Korra couldn't blame her, not really. If the roles had been reversed, Korra would've been just as upset. She would've walked out on Asami the same as Asami had walked out on her.

With a deep breath, Korra forced herself to calm. She counted the seconds of inhalation, of exhalation, and tried to weigh her options. She could chase after Asami, but wasn't sure what good it would do. Even if Korra managed to find her, there'd be no way Asami would want to talk to her. There would be no way for Korra to force her to talk, either. In fact, that would probably just make things worse. No, Asami needed space, and Korra cared enough to give it to her.

But that meant there really was nothing Korra could do to fix the situation. She'd followed a road that had led her to a dead end. There was no turning around: She couldn't take back what she'd admitted, and there was no going forward, either. She wondered how many times along the way she could've turned, how many opportunities she'd had to avoid this situation entirely, and she regretted yet again that she hadn't explained what had happened earlier. She should've admitted it straight up front instead of holding it all in. Nothing good ever came of holding things in. Nothing good ever came of keeping secrets. She'd always known that. And now she was stuck.

What more could she do than sit there entertaining the possibilities and waiting for the inevitable? Asami would go sit by herself and think, the same as Korra was doing now, because that's what Asami did when she was upset. She sought solace in solitude. She wouldn't talk to anyone unless she couldn't work a problem out on her own, and Korra supposed that was a silver lining. The odds that news of her own stupidity would get out were fairly slim. Asami had always been careful like that.

At the very worst, Asami would go yell at Bolin about it, but Korra doubted that, too. Asami knew better than that. She had more tact than that.

Or at least, Korra hoped she did.


End file.
